Quarantine
by The-Missing-Paige
Summary: Never one to bother with rules, Ed makes a trip to Xing to visit his brother…without getting the proper vaccinations first. Now he's been placed under quarantine. Strangely, though, it's in his isolation that Edward is able to make the most important bonds flourish.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, or any related characters.**

* * *

Through his fever- haze, Edward was still able to form enough coherent thought to blame himself for this mess.

He was currently lying on a stretcher, being rushed through the empty back corridors of Central Hospital to their containment ward. He was covered with an angry red rash, his throat was beyond raw, and he was pretty sure his fever could set a world record. Ed was shivering and itchy and incoherent, and why? Because he _had_ to go to Xing—but he couldn't be bothered to get the proper vaccinations, oh no. Because instead of just staying in the cities and enjoying his time with Al and May (and even a brief visit with Ling), he had to go traipsing through barely charted forests exposing himself to who knows what.

It was _almost_ funny. Almost. Because, really, he'd only been considering not getting the shots until Winry had to make a big fuss about it, so _of course_ he then decided he wouldn't do things the proper way, if only to stick it to her. This was all because of his stupid _pride_.

Briefly, Ed's shudders increased. It had been two years since the Promised Day, but he still couldn't think of the word "pride" without being reminded of that homunculus.

The orderlies at his side (in full coverage—he was "extremely contagious") pushed open a door and slowed, pulling him down a ramp gently. Ed twisted his head, wincing at the pain that simple motion elicited from his throat, to see where he was being taken: a transparent cube, inside which was a typical hospital room setup. The only difference was, the door and delivery window were airtight, and a humming pump chugged along beside the setup, continuously refreshing the air inside to prevent re-infection.

Edward understood why all this was necessary, but the sight still made his chest tighten uncomfortably. He didn't know how long he would be expected to stay in that contraption, but he _did not_ handle being cooped up well. It wasn't a phobia—it was that he was eternally restless. Being alone in a box all day was like an additionally punishment for his stupidity.

Not that he had any say in the matter. Or that he could speak at all, really—it wasn't worth feeling like his throat was tearing in two.

Groaning internally, Ed let his eyes slide shut as he was wheeled into the quarantine chamber. He didn't want to see it from the inside, just yet. After all, he'd have plenty of time to get use to the view later.

* * *

Realistically, Roy had better things to do than be sitting on a train heading to Central. Rebuilding Ishval was nowhere near an easy task, and though he'd started more than a year and a half to go, progress was slow. There was always a conflict to be smoothed out, and while his team members were more than capable of handling them, Roy always had liked to have a finger on every issue.

But on the other hand, he was fiercely loyal to his team, and even though Edward Elric wasn't (as far as the paperwork revoking his State Alchemist's license was concerned) a part of that group anymore, Roy still couldn't live with himself if he didn't go see the kid in his time of need.

Kid. That was hardly an accurate description, anymore. He should probably kick the habit of thinking of Ed that way by the time he reached the hospital.

Sighing, Roy looked out the window at the passing scenery. Lieutenant Hawkeye, who had of course refused to let him leave for Central alone, glanced at him, turning away again when he said nothing. This was silly. What could he even hope to do? Al, when he had told him of Edward's mystery illness in a frantic phone call, said they were putting Ed in quarantine as a precaution against the disease spreading. So it wasn't like the visit would be anything close to normal, even as far as hospital visits went. Hell, Roy wasn't even certain he'd be able to _talk_ to the boy—man. The whole trip was spontaneous and potentially pointless…but if he didn't make it, he'd be plagued with guilt over being insensitive for weeks to come.

Hence the train ride. Roy sighed once more, glancing at his watch. Still an hour before they arrived in Central, then perhaps twenty minutes to the hospital. He'd say hello to Al, who had sped back to Amestris as soon as he learned his brother's condition, take a look at Ed, and take his leave in a timely fashion so as to get back to his responsibilities—his tangible ones, rather than this emotional kind—as soon as possible.

* * *

Alphonse was _livid_. And he wasn't one to anger easily, so that was saying something. But he was justified—after all, wasn't it a little ridiculous that the doctors overseeing his brother wouldn't even tell him what Ed's condition was yet? "Wait until everyone is here, so we can explain it once," they said. His brother's health was more important than their convenience, thank you very much!

"Al, sit down. You can glare at the walls all you like, but they aren't going to change their minds, so there's no use getting worked up over it," Winy chastised him from her seat across the otherwise empty waiting room.

"How are you so _calm_ about this?" Al asked, exasperated. "We haven't even been able to _see_ him yet."

Winry bit her lip, looking away as she answered, "I guess I just expected something like this. I mean, he's been travelling and being reckless for two years, and I _told_ him he needed to get the vaccines, but does he listen? No! Don't get me wrong, I'm glad everything worked out and he got his arm back, and you your body, but I swear he thinks he's immortal now. Like just because you both survived that mess, nothing can possibly touch him now."

"How can you say that?" Alphonse cried, throwing his arms wide. "That's _ridiculous_. After all that's happened to us, Brother knows better than anyone how fragile our morality is. He's got a streak of hubris a mile wide, but he's not naïve, Winry."

She opened her mouth to counter, then, changing her mind, shut it. Al turned away from her, regret for his outburst washing over him almost immediately. This sterile, brightly lit hospital room should be where they bonded over worry for Edward, not where they started a fight. It just wasn't right.

Alphonse peeked at the clock on the wall; only five minutes had gone by since he'd last done so. Roy should be here within the hour. Until then, it was just a waiting game.

* * *

Winry, Riza, Roy, Alphonse; lined up in the waiting room, they were finally faced with the doctor assigned to Edward's case. All were silent as the man, portly and severe in expression, cleaned his glasses, fidgeting to get them just right. No one was surprised that Al was the first to break the qiuet, bursting out, "Well? What is it?"

"It's known in Xing as the Red Viper. Not a very practical name for a disease, but there you have it," the man replied, the gravity in his voice implying a seriousness that was, unfortunately, lost in translation.

"You'll have to forgive us common folk," Roy began coolly, impatient. He hadn't come up here for a doctor to waste his time. "We don't know what that _is_."

After an impatient _tsk_ , the man finally went into explanation mode. "It's a more serious variation of scarlet fever. The fever, in the case of the Red Viper, is actually secondary to the severity of the inflammation of the esophagus and pharynx—the sore throat. It takes longer to be healed, is extremely infectious, and can be more resistant to typical antibiotic strains."

"But Brother's going to be okay, right?" Alphonse questioned, his eyes pleading for that to be the case.

"Well, the odds are, he will be," the doctor replied. Al deflated like a popped balloon at the uncertain answer.

"Odds?" Winry repeated, voice trembling. "What kind of odds?"

"Oh, it's about seventy-thirty in his favor. We've begun the treatment, and we have a few other options should this particular antibiotic not be effective, but this disease is more vicious than scarlet fever. Sometimes it just…wins."

Roy felt immediately secure in his decision to come here. Alphonse looked like he might pass out, and Winry was tensed into a coil; with Ed in this kind of danger, even with the odds in his favor, Roy needed to be here to show his support.

"Can—can we see him, then?" Al stammered. "I know he's in quarantine, but I was told on the phone we could still visit…"

The doctor nodded once, curtly, before opening the door he had come in through and ushering them forward with one hand. "Right this way."


	2. Chapter 2

Everyone walked into that room with different emotions. Alphonse was a nervous wreck, Winry was concerned but irate, Roy was sympathetic but work-distracted, and Riza maintained a steady, comforting presence. However, upon seeing Ed lying on that bed, in the middle of a transparent plastic cube, everyone's individual worries washed away, replaced with a unifying sense of distress.

"How close can we get?" Al asked the doctor, quietly, though Ed was plainly awake—staring at them, in fact. "Can…can he hear us?"

"You can go all the way up to the containment facility; it's completely sealed, so it's safe. And yes, the glass is not soundproof, so he will be able to hear you perfectly well. Though I wouldn't expect any response just yet; as I have mentioned, his throat is rather…raw." With that, the doctor bustled away to some monitors.

Together, the four of them approached the cube. Just a few feet away, Alphonse lost his patience and ran forward, pressing both palms to the glass. "Oh _Brother_."

Inside, Edward waved back, pointing to his neck apologetically. Al shook his head. "No, I know, it's okay. How are you feeling?"

Before he could get a response of some sort from his brother, Winry came up beside him, frowning. "Look what kind of mess you've gotten yourself into now, Ed," she sighed. "If I wasn't stuck out here I'd hit you upside the head."

Even Riza frowned at that comment, and she had remained politely distanced from the affair until then. "Winry," the older woman reprimanded, "is now really the time?"

"Oh, he knows I mean it with affection," Winry replied, exasperated. Roy _just_ caught, out of the corner of his eye, a glimpse of Ed rolling his own. Affection, right. Regardless of whose fault this was (and Roy had no doubt that it was Edward's, he did have a way of drawing in trouble for himself), now wasn't the time to be berating him.

"Fuck your affection!" Alphonse snapped. Inside Ed started to laugh—big mistake. Roy winced for him, as he lied back against the cushions, fists clenched and eyes shut tight against the pain. The faint beeping from his heart monitor increased its tempo, and from across the room the doctor looked up to make sure nothing was seriously wrong. Immediately abashed, Al apologized quickly, "Look, I'm sorry, okay? But while your brand of violent caring is all fine and dandy when nothing serious is wrong, it's not funny when Brother's hurt this badly!"

A muscle in Winry's jaw clenched, but she turned away from Alphonse in surrender. Satisfied, he looked back towards Edward, whose eyes were once again open and watching the spectacle they were making outside the cube. "So, Brother, how are you?"

By way of response, Ed rolled his eyes again and gestured around him at the various machines and IVs that he was attached to, a movement that said very clearly: "How do you think I am?" He then pointed at Roy and Riza, tilting his head to the side questioningly. _What are they doing here?_

"Believe it or not, Ed, we were concerned about you when we heard what had happened," Roy answered the unspoken query dryly. "We came to see how you're doing."

"You're going to be all right, Ed," Riza added. Her words were perhaps the most important, and everyone else felt a little idiotic for not mentioning that before. Making sure Edward knew he was going to be fine and that they were there for him was the first thing they should have done.

Inside the cube, Edward nodded, mouthing the words, "Always am." Winry snorted, a tiny I told you so, but she was ignored. Following Riza's example, Alphonse began to relay what little they knew about the treatment of the Red Viper to Ed, trying to show how confident he was that his brother would be alright...despite the fact that Al was still clearly nervous about those 70-30 odds.

As Alphonse spoke, Roy took a good long look at Edward. He looked frail, and his skin was blotchy with a red rash of sorts. His normally bright golden eyes were also glazed with fever, and he kept the blankets tight to his body. Everything about the scene struck Roy as being obscenely _wrong_. He'd seen Ed injured before, but Roy hadn't witnessed this degree of fragility since he had gone to offer the Elric brothers a job with the State Alchemists. It bothered him. Edward was supposed to be full of life, especially now that the Promised Day was over. Roy had imagined that if he ever saw Ed again, the younger man would have been laughing and boisterous, not unable to speak and bedridden.

Wandering away from the stilted conversation the two brothers were still in the midst of, Roy headed towards the doctor. "Excuse me, but I have a question."

The man didn't bother to look up from his instruments, merely grunting permission for him to continue. Suppressing his annoyance, Roy went on, "Provided that everything goes well, how long will he have to be in here?"

"Hmm…well, he'll have to be in containment for at least three weeks before we can be sure he's not contagious any longer. After that, maybe a few days of bed rest before he is released from the hospital. Mind, that's if this antibiotic we've started him on turns out to work. We may need to try another variation, which would me he would be staying under quarantine for four to six weeks."

Roy bit his lip, rubbing his fingers together and causing sparks to fly out from his gloves, a nervous habit. That wasn't what he had wanted to hear. With a nod of thanks, he walked back over to the cube. Ignoring Winry's curious stare, he leaned in and whispered in Lieutenant Hawkeye's ear. "When we get out of here, I need you to do a few things for me. Cancel our train back home tomorrow, and see if you can't get us rooms in Al's hotel. Also, I'll need you to call back East and let the rest of the team know that I won't be back for at least three weeks. You, of course, can return at your discretion."

One of the many things he loved about having Riza at his side was her loyalty. Unless she had good cause to, she never questioned his orders, so despite how strange it must seem for Roy to spontaneously decide to prolong their trip, she said nothing, merely nodding to affirm her understanding. Roy straightened, assured that everything was taken care of, and turned his attention back to Alphonse and Ed.

Al was in the middle of apologizing. "Ah, sorry, I've been monopolizing you, Brother. I'm just worried, is all, but I'm sure everyone else wants a chance to talk to you as well." Ed shrugged, and Alphonse laughed. "Of course they do. Roy?"

As he was about to step forward, though to be honest he had no idea what he was going to say, Winry cut him off. She glared at him, icy, and declared, "Actually, as his _fiancée_ , I'd like to have minute to talk to Ed, if that's alright with you. Alone," she added as an afterthought.

Fiancée? Roy had known they were engaged, but after so long without them getting married, he'd assumed they broke it off. Apparently he was wrong.

"Winry," Riza began, but she was stopped by another withering look. Roy and Al may have argued, but Ed was shooing them away, shaking his head. _It's not worth it._

"Let us know when you're done, then," Roy said, turning and heading back to the waiting room.

* * *

Winry waited until Riza and Al had both disappeared through the waiting room door as well, and shut it to boot, before she turned to Edward. "I'm angry, you know."

Though Ed couldn't speak, he was a master at letting you know exactly how he felt with his eyes alone. Their burning gaze, at the moment, was sarcastic. _Really? I had no idea_. But he had more to say; Edward pointed at himself, and then held up two fingers. _Me too_.

Her already bubbling temper just about boiled over. "I didn't do anything, Ed! You have no reason to be mad at me."

Despite the pain it must have been causing him, Edward was frantically shaking his head. He pointed at his chest, eyes pleading with Winry to get it. It took her a second, but then it clicked. Oh. Ed was mad at _himself_.

Well, that was reasonable.

Resting her forehead on the glass, Winry sighed, her hot anger melting away into something cooler. More dismal. "You just put yourself in danger too much, Ed. You don't even think about it. As long as there's adventure, you go, and the second I try to reason with you, to take it as a challenge. I _know_ you knew the vaccinations were a good idea, but because I told you so, you didn't get them."

Looking up to see his response, Winry found that Edward was struggling. Eventually, he mouthed his response, exaggerating the words to make them easier to understand. "I don't like being told what to do."

"Even when what you're told is right?" Winry shook her head. "You're ridiculous.

Ed shrugged, as if to say, "Yeah, but what am I supposed to do about that?" or "No helping it." And while it was nice that he could admit he was being an idiot, it wasn't enough. She needed him to _change_.

A rapping on the glass startled her. Edward's gaze was now soft, understanding. _I don't blame you for being upset_.

"Thank you," Winry whispered. "Everyone else is so angry with me for being mad you got yourself into this…even if you do act like a dumbass, at least you understand."

Edward, lying across the cube from her, reached out to place his hand on the side of glass closest to him. Winry walked around, even though from that angle his face was obscured by the heart monitor, and placed her hand alongside his. It was just her imagination, she knew, but it seemed as though she could feel some of Ed's warmth seeping through the barrier between them. It made her sad; if being with Edward was always like this, she'd never leave his side. But he was frustrating and difficult more often than not, and that was hard to handle.

Pulling away, Winry walked back around to where she could see Ed. "I'm going to go now, okay? But I'm staying in town, and I'll visit you again. Maybe tomorrow. No later than the day after." As soon as he nodded, she spun around and walked out.

* * *

Winry strode into the waiting room, pausing only to announce, "I'm heading out, now. I told him I'd visit later so…just call me if anything serious happens, okay?"

While they all nodded, Roy couldn't help but be skeptical inwardly. If she was his fiancée, shouldn't she be staying with him pretty much always? Then again, judging from the look on her face, their little conversation had left her with anything but a good taste in her mouth. Hmm. He rose, readying to go back in and talk with Ed. Lieutenant Hawkeye stood as well, though she motioned to the opposite door. "If it's alright with you, I'm going to go get everything settled. Since we're staying, I'll have a longer visit with Ed tomorrow."

Roy nodded his assent, and walked into the containment room with Alphonse hot on his heels. As he approached the glass, he tucked his hands into his pockets, finding he still had no idea what he was supposed to say. Edward raised his eyebrows and cracked a grin, teasing Roy wordlessly.

"I know, I know," he muttered, eliciting a wider smile out of the younger man. "'The normally smooth Roy Mustang, unable to form words,' right?"

Ed nodded, evidently in approval of how Roy was portraying him. Roy couldn't help his own smile, though the circumstances were, honestly, anything but a happy background. "It's just surprising to see you like this. I hadn't expected it, which is stupid, I know, but I'm kind of still in shock." Edward affected a simpering look, placing his hands over his heart, and Roy rolled his eyes. "Don't act like it's an emotional thing, you ass. I'm just saying."

A raised eyebrow and a smirk were all the response he received. _Uh huh, right. You're not emotional at all, huh?_

Suddenly, unreasonably, Roy was very concerned with how Alphonse was viewing this exchange. The thought made him glance back, but the younger Elric brother was turned away, pretending not to pay attention…though the corner of a smile told Roy otherwise. He'd better wrap this up before he made a complete fool of himself. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to be staying here in Central until you've made a recovery, and I think Lieutenant Hawkeye intends to do the same. I know Al's staying, but I thought you should know me and the Lieutenant will also be here for you. And before you say anything,' he amended quickly, "it's not that I'm going soft, I just look out for my men. And as far as I'm concerned, you're still one of them. So…I'll be seeing you tomorrow, alright, Ed?"

Edward only stared at him openmouthed for a few moments, before nodding slowly. Roy flashed his best smile before turning and clapping Al on the shoulder. "I trust I'll see you here tomorrow as well?"

"You know it," Alphonse affirmed. "I'll be here whenever the doctors allow it."

"Tomorrow, then. Don't listen to any lies he tells about me," Roy joked, calling the last words over his shoulder before he left. Tomorrow. And every day until Edward was out of that godforsaken "containment center."

* * *

Though his little band of visitors hadn't been there long (with Al leaving just a few minutes after Roy), Edward found himself completely exhausted once he was alone once more. He slumped back against his pillows, shivering lightly. At least he was warmer today. That was a good sign, right?

Seeing everyone together again had been shocking. This was the first time Al had come back to Amestris, and Ed had only seen Winry briefly in between trips, never mind the Colonel and the Lieutenant. It was…nice, to have them all there for him. Edward smiled. When he was younger he'd never have had a thought like that. He used to be so self-sufficient, but now he appreciated people caring about him. To an extent, at least. As he had told Winry, he still didn't like being told what to do, but he was fine with people having his back.

Winry. Ed barely suppressed a sigh in time—those, as he had found out the hard way, were rather rough on his throat. What was he going to do about her? Or, maybe more accurately, what was she going to do about him? Edward _knew_ she was upset, and he supposed she had a right to be so…but at the same time, it wouldn't kill her to try to understand. He's spent the better part of his life focused on fixing his fuck ups. First it was training to learn alchemy to bring his and Al's mother back, and then trying to get their bodies back, and then trying to defeat Father. Only recently had Ed been able to experience what it was like to make his own path without guilt obligating him to choose a certain way. And Winy wanted to put restrictions on that…Edward was _done_ with restrictions.

So what did that mean? Both he and Winry could be stupidly stubborn, and Ed knew he wasn't ready to change his ways just yet. He just didn't know if Winry could hold out until he decided to settle down.

Then there was Alphonse. It felt so strange to see his brother back in Amestris, but of course Edward had been happy to have Al by his side again. His visit to Xing hadn't been nearly enough to cover the ache Ed felt without Alphonse next to him. Having been reliant solely on each other for so long, being away from his brother still felt strange to Edward, and it was a great comfort for Al to come visit him now.

And Roy and Riza, that was interesting. Lieutenant Hawkeye was always great to have around; though she hadn't said much (which was typical, unless you were alone with her), Riza's presence was in itself very grounding. Just by being in the room, she gave you a sense of security. The Colonel, on the other hand…well, he was fun to mess with, at least, and that cheered Ed up immensely. But he couldn't for the life of him understand why Roy had decided that he was going to come up here, let alone stay for the duration of Edward's treatment. Maybe he, like Ed, was getting a little soft and nostalgic.

Whatever. He'd take any company he could get in this stupid fucking cube.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Alphonse was sitting outside Ed's quarantine center on a crappy plastic chair as soon as the doctors would allow him in (which just so happened to be 10 am—he'd been at the hospital since 8:30). Still, it seemed his earnestness was all for naught because Edward was still fast asleep.

His brother's chest, covered in blankets, rose and fell at a semi-regular rate; it was, in Ed's unconsciousness, clear that his breathing was labored. Al guessed this was due to his sore throat—in his experience, even when inhaling through the nose, it could be quite irritating. Edward's face was also scrunched, though Alphonse couldn't deduce whether this was from physical discomfort or a dream. On the bright side, Ed's heart monitor was beeping at a steady, healthy sleeping rate, and an IV tube kept a steady stream of nutrients flowing into his brother's system. At the very least, he was being nourished properly.

Many people would have, in Al's current situation, felt bored or even uncomfortable, and left to come back later. Alphonse, on the other hand, was completely at ease merely watching his brother sleep…mainly because he had done so for many years. Some nights while Al was stuck in that suit of armor he had meditated, getting a semblance of sleep in the sense that he was unaware of the world around him, but most nights he had ended up falling into the role of guardian for Edward. Whenever Ed had a nightmare, Alphonse had been there to lay a hand on his brother, and more often than not that calmed Edward…though he wasn't aware of that fact. Still, all that practice had made Al rather content to just sit and watch and be secure in Ed's safety.

Of course, he was less than sure now. It was a little ridiculous, because 70-30 odds weren't _really_ bad. It's just that they could have been better. Al had complete faith that the doctors working with Edward would do their utmost to cure him…but what if it didn't work?

Alphonse shook his head—it didn't do anything to think like that. Still…

He jumped as a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Turning, Al saw Roy standing there, eyebrows raised at his extreme reaction, holding a steaming cup of coffee. Strange that he hadn't heard the Colonel come up—Alphonse must have been more absorbed in his thoughts than he thought.

"Sorry," Al apologized. "You startled me there."

"Hmm…you ought to pay more attention than that," Roy replied, taking a nonchalant sip. "I wasn't being that quiet, you should have heard me."

"I know. I was just…worrying," Alphonse confessed. Before the other man could respond to that, he queried, "Do you want to sit? I can grab another chair."

Roy shrugged. "It's fine. Worrying about what?"

"Well, at the moment I'm worried about you," Al joked. "Civilian clothes? I almost can't believe you're the Colonel." It _was_ strange to see Roy outside of uniform, though the waistcoat and trousers the man was currently sporting were still quite dressy.

Snorting, Roy took another drink, sighing in satisfaction—or maybe that was disappointment. "No, what's really bothering you? It's Ed, isn't it."

Now it was Alphonse's turn to sigh. "Yes," he admitted begrudgingly, eyes still glued to his brother. Inside the cube, Ed seemed to be stirring slightly, shifting as much as was possible with the needles and monitors he was attached to.

"I understand."

For the second time today, Roy had caught Al by surprise. He spun around to face the older man, eyes wide. "Really!? I mean, I thought you were going to tell me the odds are in his favor and I'm being ridiculous."

"Well, both of those statements are true," Roy cautioned. "Don't get too excited. It's just that I'm being ridiculous as well. After all, I extended what was supposed to be a brief visit into a three week long venture—at _least_ three weeks, according to that doctor. So I can't very well lecture you about not overreacting. It would be hypocritical."

Alphonse was dying to ask just _why_ the Colonel had elected to make that decision when he was distracted by an increase in the beeping from the cube. Looking back, he saw that Ed had woken up and was in obvious distress, his hands curled and his face scrunched up. Almost immediately, two nurses rushed over to Al and Roy. "Sirs, we have to ask you to leave," one said, while the other passed them to dig in a small supply box next to the cube. "We need to get in to see Mr. Elric, and you can't be in the vicinity. Someone will let you know when it's safe to return."

Both men accepted this without a fuss, heading to the waiting room quietly—after all, having to leave Edward for a few minutes was a lot easier than catching the disease from him. Still, neither Alphonse nor Roy was entirely comfortable with what they'd just witnessed.

"What do you think was wrong?" Al fussed, sinking into an armchair like it was a lifeboat.

"He must have been in a lot of pain when he woke up," Roy replied after a moment, sitting down as well. "After all, you've had sore throats before, right?"

"Right…" Alphonse didn't see the point.

The Colonel leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he asked, "Don't you remember how it felt to wake up with one?"

* * *

Edward was in agony. He thrashed on the bed, unable to contain his movements even though he knew they were only making the burning in his throat worse. He wanted to scream, but managed to avoid that mistake. Swallowing was torture, but not swallowing was horrible as well. This same thing had happened yesterday, the razorblades in his throat, but the thought didn't calm him. Yes, he knew someone would be in soon, but it wasn't going to be pleasant.

Sure enough, he was right. Two men in hazmat suits came at him, orange blurs through the wetness in Ed's eyes. They forced his mouth open, and suddenly he was drinking grape juice. Getting it down felt like he was going to die, like his neck was melting from the inside out, but once it was down the rawness was a tad bit less harsh…until the men sprayed a mist (extra strength pain killers) into the back of his mouth. Edward gagged, tears falling down his cheeks. It tingled, exacerbating the fire for a moment, before finally, _finally_ it kicked in and the pain died down to a dull aching.

Dropping back down onto the pillows from his half-seated position, Edward breathed hard through his nose, trying to get over that ordeal. He'd had to deal with that every morning since he got here, and didn't know how long that routine would last. The thought was nigh unendurable.

Shakily, he brought his hands up to wipe at his damp cheeks. Through the suffering, Ed had caught a glimpse of Al and Roy waiting for him, and when they came back he didn't want any signs of crying to be showing.

* * *

After twenty long minutes, the same nurse who had ushered them out of the area stepped into the waiting room. "You're welcome back in, now. And don't worry, it's perfectly safe—the whole room was bathed in a sterilizing mist, so you won't be infected."

Al leaped up at the words, but Roy remained seated, waving him on. "Go ahead, I'll join you in a few minutes. Gives you time to do mushy brotherly things," he teased.

Nodding appreciatively, Alphonse sped into the containment room and up to the cube. Edward, now much more relaxed than when he had woken up, waved right back, smiling. Al breathed a sigh of relief, coming up close to the glass. "Morning, Brother. Are you alright? I saw you before…"

Shrugging, Ed pointed at his throat. "I'm sorry," Al murmured. "That must have been bad."

Another shrug, then Edward pointed at Al before drawing a question mark in the air. _How are you doing?_

"I'm fine, I guess. Worried about you, obviously. Oh! I almost forgot to tell you," Alphonse added. "May called this morning. She sends her best wishes."

Eyes lighting up at the name of Al's girlfriend, Ed waggled his eyebrows suggestively. As he always did whenever May was mentioned. Alphonse rolled his eyes. "Don't you think it's time to grow up a little? I mean, you're _engaged_ and I don't do that."

As soon as he'd spoken, Al wanted to take the words back, remembering how tense the air had been between Ed and Winry yesterday. His brother's face fell, and he lowered his head to stare at the blankets.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I know things are a little touchy right now…" Alphonse said gently, pressing a hand to the glass between them. "Can I help?"

Before he was even finished speaking, Edward was shaking his head. He raised both hands, slashing them through the air. _No. New topic._ Without pausing, Ed then mouthed, "Roy?"

"He's in the waiting room," Al explained, but again, Edward was already shaking his head.

"Roy," he mouthed again, this time continuing, "Why call?"

 _Oh!_ Ed wanted to know why Alphonse had called Roy in at all. That was funny—Al had thought it was obvious. "Well, you were hurt and I felt like I should call _someone_. I tried Teacher first, but she didn't answer—I think she must be on another nature retreat. So I called Roy. I mean, he's kind of like a father figure, so it made sense."

Inside the cube, Edward was now making gagging motions. "Father figure?" he mouthed, followed by an exaggerated "ew" look that had Al almost doubled over in laughter. Once he recovered, he asked, "What, you don't see him like that?"

Ed was still for a moment, evidently musing. Finally, slowly, he shaped the words in stilted, silent sentences. "No. No dad. Mentor maybe. Mostly coworker. Acquaintance."

That was fascinating. Alphonse had always assumed they both viewed the Colonel in the same manner. "Huh. Really? I dunno he always seemed like another guardian to me."

This time, Al heard the footsteps, so he expected Roy's voice coming from behind him. "You better get that out of your head right now. I'm not cut out for kids, even if they are adults now."

Inside the cube, Ed was grinning, and his shoulders shook with the effort of suppressing laughter. He settled for sticking his tongue out at Alphonse. _I told you he wasn't a father figure._

"So," Roy went on, "now that we've gotten that straightened out: anything we can do for you, Ed?" He instantly regretted this question when Ed mimed spinning and dancing awkwardly from his stationary position on the bed. "Other than making fools of ourselves," he amended.

Grinning, Edward mouthed, "I'm bored. Entertain."

"Ah, that's usually your job, Brother…" Alphonse mused, placing a hand on the back of his neck. "This will be much easier when you can talk, then we can at least hold up a conversation. We spoke so much when you visited in Xing there's no stories for me to tell you now…"

Nodding with understanding, Ed turned his gaze to Roy, causing the older man to gulp. Even dull with fever and general illness, Edward's strange golden eyes still held a mesmerizing quality. Framed by dark lashes, they drew Roy in and kept him prisoner there. They were eyes that demanded an answer.

Shit.

"I suppose I have a story," Roy sighed, placing his head in his hand. "But both of you have to swear to _never_ repeat it."

Alphonse agreed with a quiet sound, Ed with robust nodding. "I made a bet with Havoc," Roy began. "He was complaining about how it was easier for me to fix up buildings back east with my alchemy, and I was certain he was just lazy, so I told him if I could do more than him in a day not using alchemy he had to wear a skirt to work the next day." Struggling for a moment in the face of the brothers giving him twin, knowing grins, Roy forced himself to continue, muttering, "And the conditions were the same for me. And I lost."

In the cube, Edward was laughing silently but hysterically, tears streaming down his cheeks (whether from pain or amusement, Roy couldn't tell) and a hand slapping at his blanket-covered knee. Alphonse's mirth was only slightly less boisterous, and much louder. Placing his hand over his face once more, Roy waited until the room was quiet once more before daring to look at either Elric. When he did, Al had mostly calmed down, the only sign of his lingering glee a slight twitching in the corner of his mouth. Ed, on the other hand, was still wearing a shit eating grin that made Roy question his decision to use _that_ story. Still, it had _definitely_ entertained Edward, so at least he'd done his job well.

"You're not to tell a soul," he reminded them sternly, focusing the brunt of his glare on Ed.

The other man nodded earnestly, leaning forward to get his response across. "I bet you looked sexy."

Roy was not a blushing person. But at that comment, heat flared into his face. While Edward had always been quick-witted and sarcastic, the removal of their superior-subordinate dynamic had evidently opened the channels for even more inappropriate teasing. To be fair, Al seemed just as shocked by his brother's words, so it wasn't like he was over reacting. That was just beyond what he'd expected, and it made him uncomfortably warm.

Smirking again at Roy's face, Ed waved his hand in dismissal. "Just kidding." He then leaned forward, head cocked to the side.

He didn't need to do anything else; Roy knew what he was asking intuitively.

 _So, any other stories?_


	4. Chapter 4

Ed was a worrier of a very specific kind. He wasn't prone to general anxiety, and (as he had proved via his visit to Xing) he had no problem risking himself in certain situations. However, when it came to those closest to Edward…he was almost constantly disquieted. For years his sole preoccupation was trying to fix what he had done to Alphonse. Now, most of his concerns were less dire in nature—was Al getting along with May, how was Pinako doing as she got older, had this or that worked out with the friends he had met on his travels; that sort of thing.

When he'd come down with the Red Viper, Ed's immediate thought was of one of these friends in particular. Chen. He'd toyed with the idea of sending someone to help Chen. Not try to save him; that wasn't a viable option, not really. Edward had more or less come to terms with that fact, and the way it made his chest ache. But despite the futility, Ed wondered whether it would be nice to at least send a messenger…a last goodbye.

Now, however, Edward's attention had turned closer to home: Winry. More specifically, the fact that—despite her promise—she hadn't shown up for a visit after that first one. It wasn't that Ed was selfishly upset that she hadn't come to see him, it was that he knew Winry. And no matter how angry she might be with him, she wasn't one to break a vow.

Hence why Aphonse was out looking for her, and Roy was sitting just beyond a glass wall trying to keep Ed calm.

"You know, everything is much more peaceful than when you headed out a few years ago, Ed," the man repeated for the umpteenth time, his voice somehow still patient. Roy uncrossed and re-crossed his legs, leaning forward, face maybe an inch from the glass. "I'm sure nothing's seriously wrong."

Edward shook his head vehemently. Yes, the Promised Day was over and that type of widespread evil had disappeared, but there were still lone psychos. What if Winry had been attacked, or kidnapped?

Roy was still speaking, but Ed wasn't paying attention. It didn't matter what the odds of it happening were, the point was disaster was possible. He _needed_ to know Winry was okay. Lost in a whirlwind of increasingly awful imaginary scenarios, Edward only snapped back to reality when he spotted Roy _biting his lip_.

That was new, right? He'd never had that tic before—Ed would have known, and capitalized on it for maximum teasing potential. Hmm.

"Ed," the Colonel began, hesitant. "I don't mean to bring up a touchy subject, but…I know you and Winry aren't exactly the happiest couple in the world at the moment. Don't you think it's far more likely that she's just not sure where to go from here? I mean, I know it's none of my business, but things seem _really_ tense from what I've seen. She might not want to come see you until she has a clearer head."

Turning away, face red with equal parts embarrassment and irritation, Edward huffed. It was _impossible_ to explain to Roy that the Winry he knew wasn't like that. She'd barge into the containment center and risk infection to slap him upside the head before she'd just ignore him. But he still couldn't talk, so he had to try to convince Roy in silent shorthand. "She promised to come," he mouthed, returning his gaze to the other man to make his lips easier to read. "Wouldn't break that."

Roy looked like he wanted to argue, and even opened his mouth up to do so…but he closed it again without saying anything. After a moment of what appeared to be intense thought, he merely shook his head and reiterated, "I'm sure Alphonse will find that she's just fine. It'll all be okay, Ed."

* * *

Al doubled checked the paper in his hands, making sure the numbers matched up with the door in front of him. Once reassured that he was indeed standing in front of Winry's hotel room, he knocked, three times. Loud, but not too loud.

No answer.

He knocked again, rapping his knuckles a little harder against the cheap wood. "Winry?" he called softly, not wanting to disturb the neighbors. "It's Al. Are you there?"

This time he heard a thump, and the almost unnoticeable sound of light footsteps on heavy carpet. The door clicked open.

It appeared the situation between his brother and their long time friend was worse than he had imagined. Winry's long hair was up, not in her usual ponytail, but in a messy bun, and she had neglected to put makeup on. Actually, she'd neglected to change out of her pajamas altogether. Worse, here eyes were ever so faintly red-rimmed from crying.

"Oh, Winry…." Al trailed off, not knowing what to say. To be honest, he'd been confused by the relationship between her and Ed since the beginning, but recently things had become even more muddled. He had no idea what had changed to make them suddenly at edge with each other, and therefore he was stumped as to how best to console the woman before him.

However, consolation appeared to be unnecessary. "Don't 'Oh, Winry' me, Al. Ed sent you, right? Wants to know why I'm not over there simpering over his condition?" As she spoke, Winry opened the door wider, standing with her hands on her hips.

Alphonse threw his hands up in surrender. "Whoa, okay, calm down for a second. That's not it at all. He said that _you_ said that you'd come in by today. He was worried about you and wanted me to make sure nothing had happened…"

Her expression softening minutely, Winry sighed. "I'm fine, clearly."

After an awkward moment of silence, Al asked, "So…?"

"Ugh, I suppose I have to send him a stupid little message, right? Or he's going to have you keep bothering me." Winry flipped a stray hair out of her face, looking away. Behind the aggravated façade, Al thought he spotted a glimmer of sadness in her eyes. "Just, tell him I need some space, okay? I don't think he can see it, but he's put me through a lot of unnecessary worry lately, and I can't handle any more. Being in that room, seeing him like that…it's not a simple situation, where I can just be sad he's hurt. I'm _angry_. It's his own damn fault he's stuck like that, and—well, you don't need all the gory details of what's wrong. Point being, I need some time and space before I'm ready to talk things out. Plus, it would help if he could actually _talk_. I'm not leaving Central, and I'll come when I'm ready. Just not today."

On the one hand, Alphonse knew what Winry meant, about needing space. Not that he had personal experience with the emotions behind that, but it was logical. On the other hand, he knew Edward would be anything but satisfied with that answer. Still, what was he supposed to do?

"Okay," Al agreed. "I'll pass that along. But Winry—" he added quickly, as she began to close the door. "You should know, Brother really cares—"

"Save it, Al," she interrupted. Winry brought up a hand, shooing him away. "I'll see you later. Oh, and do me one other favor?"

"Sure."

"Tell Ed that just because he gets himself in all kinds of trouble, that doesn't mean I'm as big an idiot, and I don't need someone checking up on me." And with that, Winry pulled her hotel door closed, rather harder than Alphonse thought necessary.

He walked down the hall and to the stairwell slowly, trying to figure out the best way to relay this information to Ed. While what she had said was, upfront, rather callous, Al had known Winry since they were children. He could tell that her harsh remarks were just meant to cover up the real problem: Edward had hurt her. What the details were and who was in the wrong in this situation, Alphonse wasn't in a position to judge. He didn't want to judge.

Being the go-between was bad enough. Winry was right; Al _didn't_ want the "gory details."

* * *

Ed was the first to see Alphonse walking back into the quarantine center, and he just about fell off the hospital bed when he saw Winry was not with him. Not good. Not good at all.

"Relax, Brother!" Al said hurriedly, rushing forward as Edward regained his balance. "She's fine!"

Relief flooded Edward's body like honey, dripping through him and making him warm. Winry was safe, at least. However, that followed with a second thought, one that had that honey freezing and chipping at him from the inside out; if she wasn't here _and_ she was okay, she must be through the roof pissed at him.

Staring at Al, Ed willed him to explain, and (with great hesitance), his brother complied. "She's angry and she's hurt, Brother. Don't ask me to explain why, I don't know!" he went on, voice rising in response to Edward's furrowing brows. "She just said she wanted some space."

Oh, the irony! Winry wanted _space_? Ed almost laughed, it was so absurd. She had constantly nagged him about being gone too long on his travels, and now that he was finally accessible, she wanted space. Of course she did.

Still, as funny as it was, the fact that Winry didn't want to see him hurt. Edward was reminded of when he had been impaled through the side—the feeling was the same, only he couldn't fix this wound as easily. They were _engaged_ …shouldn't that mean Winry wanted to be with him and to solve their problems? And (this part was, perhaps, the most excruciating to consider) shouldn't he be feeling upset that they were separated, rather than anxious to get their argument over with already?

They used to be so good together. What had happened?

"Ed?" Roy murmured gently. "I know you probably don't want to talk about whatever's happening between you two, and I know it's none of my business. But if you think I could maybe help you, or if you just need someone to vent with, I just want you to know I'm here, okay? This must be really hard for you, and I know you tend to try to deal with you problems alone, but I don't want you to have to do that this time. You can come to me if you want to."

"And that goes double for me, Brother," Al put in. "Don't let this eat away at you. Just focus on getting better, and whatever happens with Winry, we'll be there for you the whole way."

Edward sniffed—from this damned infection, _not_ because he was affected by what they'd said. Okay, maybe just a little. But it was already unbearably sweet for the both of them to have come up to be with him while he was stuck in this stupid ass cube. To offer emotional support as well (while expected, at least in Al's case) was above and beyond, and he appreciated that. It was strange, Winry wanted him to change. And he had; he was getting so soft! But he supposed that wasn't enough.

Looking hard at Roy and Alphonse in turn, Ed placed a hand over his heart. _Thank you_.


	5. Chapter 5

A week passed, and Winry never did show up.

Alphonse visited every day, and distracted Ed from his relationship issues with his own worries; namely, Edward's heath. Al's intense concern allowed Ed to fall easily into the role of consoling older brother. Roy also sat outside the cube each day, providing Edward with no small degree of entertainment and an outlet for general tomfoolery, which was also a good diversion from both Winry and his continuing sickness. But perhaps most reassuring was Riza, who (after taking a couple of days to straighten out their absence with the military) maintained a steady and calm presence. She was quieter than both Al and Roy, and yet more comforting nonetheless. Edward heavily suspected this was a secret feminine talent.

Still, it's very hard to ignore the fact that your fiancée has soundly ignored you for a whole week as you sat in quarantine. On some level, Ed understood Winry's need for space to think, but that was a lot easier to handle when he wasn't stuck on a hospital bed. Add that to the fact that he was much better at just confronting problems than beating around the bush, and it got to be a little hard to handle.

Therefore, despite the best efforts of his companions, Edward had a pretty shitty first week in containment. However, upon waking up on his eight day in the cube, Ed did receive a most welcome surprise.

He could speak.

Oh, it was rough, but possible, and that was the point. Edward discovered this little treat when his usual morning torture wasn't nearly as horrible as it had been at first. And since he'd woken up without feeling like his throat was on fire, he'd tried to just say hello to the empty room…and the word came out! It was definitely painful, but manageable, and that fact rather put the more negative thoughts from his mind. All Ed could focus on was being able to surprise everyone once they came to visit.

He snuggled up in his blankets, settling in to wait. After Al and Roy had witnessed his strained wake up that one day, they'd taken to arriving later and giving him time to recover. Which, normally, Edward was grateful for…not today. He wriggled with impatience, tossing and turning and stretching the cords of his IV and heart monitor in the process.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door to the waiting room opened, and one by one his usual company walked in. Ed sat upright instantly, waving them over. Mistake. Alphonse, probably assuming that Edward was in pain or something like that, rushed to him, pressing his hands against the glass. "Are you okay, Brother. Do you need one of the doctors?"

Ed shook his head, glancing pointedly at Roy and Riza, who were lagging behind. No way was he saying anything until they got their sluggish asses over here.

"What's up, Ed?" the Colonel asked, sipping on another coffee. He drank them every time he visited, sometimes two or three. To be honest, Edward didn't think it could possibly be necessary.

Gearing himself up, Ed opened his mouth and, croakily, said, "Hi."

Roy dropped his coffee, both his hands and jaw going slack with shock (which, of course, was met with an odd smile/glare from Lieutenant Hawkeye as she tried to express both joy and disapproval at the same time). Alphonse, after a heartbeat, squealed, pushing himself up to the glass in an awkward mock-hug. "Brother! You can talk again! This is great news, you must be getting better, oooohhhh, I'm just so _excited_ for you—"

"Have you told the doctors yet?" Riza asked, cutting Al off. Wise.

Slightly abashed at his oversight, Ed shook his head. "No, I was so focused on telling you I didn't think about it." The more he spoke the clearer he was. Excellent.

Smile twitching, the woman nodded. "I'll go let them know, then—this is probably a good sign."

As she walked off, Roy snapped out of his stupor, cursing at the coffee on his shoes and trying to mop up the mess with the single napkin he had. "Ah, shit—congrats, though, Ed I'm—fuck—really, _really_ happy for you—"

The sight of Roy, seeming to do nothing but spread the liquid around and fretting over his mess, was _too_ funny—the Colonel being flustered was a rare occurrence, and it had Edward laughing. Out loud. For the first time since this stupid disease had rendered him speechless. The action hurt, more than speaking, but Ed was so relieved to be able to _do_ it without feeling like he was going to die that the pain was nothing.

Alphonse joined in the laughter, more out of happiness than mirth, and Roy looked up again, surprised for the second time in as many minutes. His responding smile was so sincere it actually stopped Edward's giggles, and for a moment no one spoke, just basking in the sense of victory permeating the air.

Until one of the doctors overseeing Ed, and eager young man with curly hair and bright eyes, barged into the room already talking at high speeds. "Is it true Mr. Elric? You can speak, despite the sore throat? How easy is it? Can you say every sound, or are some too painful? And on that note, what would you say your pain level is, and in comparison to before—"

"Yes!" Ed interrupted, firing off answers nearly as fast as the doctor could ask them. "I can talk again. It's a little difficult to enunciate and I'm—obviously, as you can tell—a bit raspy. I haven't tried going through all the phonetics, but so far I haven't had any trouble with any particular sounds. Pain is about at a five, which still sucks, but at first it was a solid twelve on a scale that goes to ten, so…"

"This means that the antibiotic is working, right?" Alphonse asked eagerly, his hands clasping onto his blue button down as though for support.

"Yes, that's a safe bet," the doctor replied, smiling even as he scratched down what Edward had reported on a chart. "If the disease were progressing as normal, his throat would actually be worse by now, and probably swollen enough for him to not be able to breathe without aid. This is the exact opposite, and precisely what we would hope to see."

Though everyone else took the announcement as positive and hopeful, Ed felt a stabbing sensation in his chest, like he was being pierced by an icicle. Riza, who had entered behind the doctor, was naturally the first to notice. "Ed? You okay?"

"Yeah," he murmured, looking down at the blankets. "No, it's nothing. Still feel better, I just—thought of something. Someone, actually."

"Winry?" Al queried softly, as though speaking quietly would lessen the connotations that now came with the name.

"No…" Ed replied. He was not regretting saying as much as he had—how to get out of this conversation now? What was the point of talking about Chen? It wouldn't help anyone. "A friend in Xing, actually."

Dissatisfied with that meager explanation, Alphonse opened his mouth, but the doctor (evidently sensing the suddenly awkward atmosphere) interjected before he could say anything. "I'll go pass along this information to the other doctors—this is a good sign, Mr. Elric. With any luck, you'll be out of here within two weeks. Someone will be in to check up on you later."

Everyone, graciously, waited for the doctor to scurry out of the room. Once they were alone again, it was Roy who spoke first. "Ed, you're upset. You're very bad at hiding your emotions, so don't try to deny it. What's wrong?"

Ed sighed. He'd gotten himself into it now. Then again, on some level he _wanted_ to talk about this. It felt wrong to have it all bottled up, and besides, if Chen was dead this was the least Edward could do to pass on his memory.

Taking a deep breath, Edward began, "Okay, okay. What the doctor said just reminded me of what happened in Xing…how I got this disease, actually." His throat was very dry. Shaking slightly, Ed reached over to a table beside his bed, where the doctors had begun to store juice a few days ago. After taking a swig, he continued, all three members of his audience rapt with curiosity. "After I wrapped up my visit with Alphonse, I decided to explore some more remote areas of Xing. Dumb, yeah, considering my lack of vaccinations, but let's just ignore that for now. Well, eventually I stumbled across this tiny village. Too small to even have a name, and much less sophisticated that the parts of Xing I'd seen so far. And I was fascinated, and the people seemed kind, and I had managed to pick up enough Xingese to stay for what was supposed to be just a night, but ended up being a week."

"And you met a friend there?" Riza clarified.

"Yeah." Edward smiled sadly, remembering Chen's face when they'd been introduced. He'd lit up in the widest grin Ed had ever seen, save Al's, and bowed low, his long hair flopping down over his face. "His name is—was," he corrected, rather painfully, "Chen. He'd just turned nineteen, and he ran food from the village to more populated areas, so he'd learned a little English there. Between our language mash-ups, we were more or less able to carry on an actual conversation, so of course we bonded."

He hadn't thought he would actually cry. He and Chen hadn't known each other long enough for there, in normal circumstances, to be this much of a connection. This much of a reaction. But here Ed was, tears welling up in his eyes. All he could picture was that last night and lying in the field, looking at the starlight on Chen's face and how his black eyes seemed to glow in the dark.

"Brother…" Al trailed off, helpless. "You—"

"I got from him that some people in the village were sick," Ed pressed on. "Chen told me to stay away from them, so I did. It worried me that he was so adamant about me not getting close, but I didn't think about it too much. I was enjoying myself." Edward swallowed. "I didn't put this together until after I got the disease, you know. I didn't know it was this severe, _lethal_. I didn't know…"

"Of course you didn't," Riza said soothingly, though she couldn't know entirely what Ed was talking about.

"Yeah. Well, I did have an arrangement to be escorted back home, so I couldn't stay forever. And on my last night out Chen invited me to go stargazing in this field."

 _"Come, Ed!" Chen shouted, waving him along. Edward followed with a smile, barely navigating the tight paths through the bamboo. Without the moonlight glinting on Chen's hair guiding him, he would have been lost._

 _They came upon the field suddenly; one second they were surrounded, and the next second Ed was standing in the open. Chen lied in the grass, patting the space next to him, and of course Edward accepted the offer, lying down close enough for their arms to touch. Wordlessly, they'd looked to the heavens. Ed had_ never _seen stars like these—they seemed to be from a different universe entirely, there were so many of them shining so brightly._

"You have to understand," Ed warned, taking another swig of juice. "This wasn't…it's going to sound bad, but it wasn't like that. At least, not really. So try not to judge me too harshly, okay?" Nods all around, and he continued. "Chen knew we were saying goodbye. And he…he wanted to tell me something."

 _"Ed," Chen had murmured, so quietly Edward had almost missed it. "I know you have weihunqi." A fiancee. Ed had mentioned Winry in passing—to be honest, he was surprised Chen remembered. "But I feel very ai for you."_

 _The sentence wasn't perfect, but it got the point across. Edward's eyes opened wide, and he turned to look at Chen a little apprehensively. Love? Probably not love as strong as was the connotation, but still…love?_

 _"You feel very ai for weihunqi," Chen confirmed, nodding in understanding. "But now you know my ai."_

 _"Chen, buhao." This_ wasn't _good. Ed enjoyed his company, and—he gulped, admitting it to himself—while he found Chen simply beautiful, he couldn't say he_ loved _the other man. He was engaged to Winry, and so that term was reserved for her."My weihunqi. I can't."_

 _"I know," Chen repeated. "But I want gei you something as goodbye. Yinwei you feel small ai for me. I know. I jian."_

 _He saw that Ed liked him as well? Heat flooded Edward's face; perhaps his lingering glances hadn't been as subtle as he'd thought. And now Chen was equating that with some form of love. Which, maybe, wasn't entirely incorrect; it was certainly an attraction of sorts. Physically. And it wasn't as though Chen wasn't nice. Even so, Ed had made it clear his heart was Winry's, and Chen seemed to know that. And seemed to respect it. So a goodbye gift couldn't be too bad._

 _"Okay."_

 _Of all the things Ed would have guessed could have been the gift, he never would have thought of this. Chen rolled over to face him, and suddenly he was just so close-_

"He told me he loved me. And that he wanted to give me something as a goodbye." Edward closed his eyes before he went on in a whisper. "He kissed me."

Silence. After a long moment, Ed chanced a glance—everyone was standing in mute shock. Al seemed to be struggling with something, and Edward headed it off. "I don't need you to tell me how I betrayed Winry. I know I did, and I've been beating myself up about that since. I mean, it wasn't like I planned it, or anything, but even so…"

"Does she even know?" Roy asked, shaking his head as he tried to process the information he'd been presented.

"Yeah. When the doctors realized I was infected and they took me in, I wrote the story down and told them to tell Winry when they called her. I know it's not as good as hearing it from me, but at that point I couldn't speak and I needed her to know…" Ed sighed. "I didn't love him. Maybe I didn't hate what happened, but it wasn't like I was going to stay there with Chen and leave her. It was just a goodbye. A could-have-been kiss, at the most. Up until I got sick, I was just guilty because of Winry, but once I was hospitalized I realized Chen must be sick too. I don't know who passed it on to who, but…with that kind of contact, he's definitely got it. Had it. Because what the doctor just said, that means that if I hadn't had any medical help I would be dead by now. And Chen—" A tear leaked out, and Edward's voice broke. "That means Chen's gone."

More than anything, Ed expected a rebuke. After all, he'd been completely horrible to Winry, accepting the kiss like that, and everyone assembled had a perfect right to be mad at him for that. But instead, Roy walked over to the side of the cube. Edward's heart monitor was in the way, so he couldn't see the man's face, but he did see the hand pressed against the glass. Heart skipping a beat at the memory of the same gesture from a very different person, Ed pressed a shaking palm against his side of the barrier.

"Ed, I'm so sorry," Roy murmured. "Regardless of right and wrong in this situation, someone you cared about is gone. I'm sorry."

Riza nodded. "It's okay to be upset, Ed. Like you said, you didn't have intentions of hurting Winry. You weren't trying to do anything wrong. You're allowed to be sad about this boy."

"If you want, Brother, I can call May, and have her try to track down the village…at least so you can get some closure, so you aren't just guessing based upon a doctor's estimate," Alphonse offered quietly.

"Yeah," Ed choked out, the tears coming more freely then. "Yeah, that'd be nice."

He looked back down at his hand, at the hand Roy still had pressed to the glass opposite his own. Edward wanted a lot of things in that moment: for Winry to be there so maybe they could talk everything out and she could begin to forgive him so he could forgive himself, for Chen to somehow be alright, for the last few weeks to never have happened so this all could be avoided.

But most of all, in that instant, Ed thought he might really like for the glass of his containment center to be gone so he could feel Roy's hand.


	6. Chapter 6

"What do you _mean_ Ed's not letting us in there?" Alphonse half-shouted in exasperated disbelief. The nurse currently standing in between him, Roy, and Riza, and the door that led from the waiting room to Edward, gulped.

"I don't know, sir, Mr. Elric just said he doesn't want any visitors today," she repeated, clearly nervous to have to relay this information to such a hysterical young man as Al. "He didn't say why."

"It's because of yesterday, Al," Riza murmured quietly. "Because of what he told us."

"He's pouting," Roy agreed with a sigh. Leave it to Edward Elric to make a difficult situation even more dramatic. And the worst part was, Ed was definitely beating himself up in there with no one to stop him—that was just his nature. And at the moment, Roy didn't have the patience for it.

So, he stepped forward, past Al (who was still babbling about just letting them in already) and up to the nurse. Judging by how anxious she was just delivering Edward's decision, this shouldn't be too hard. Roy stopped just in front of her, effectively cutting Alphonse off, and grabbed the nurse's hand. She was, he supposed, fairly pretty with her bouncy curls and big green eyes. Slowly, he let his fingers trail up her arm, across her collarbone, and up her neck to come to a rest cupping her cheek. Putting on his best smile, Roy simpered quietly, "Come on, sweetheart. You know we're not going to hurt him…and be honest, he looks pretty upset right? I bet we could cheer him up." The nurse's eyes were wide, her face flushed. Tilting his head to the side ever so slightly, Roy finished in a sultry whisper, "If you let us in to try, I _know_ I can cheer you up later…"

Though he remained totally focused on the poor girl before him, Roy just _knew_ Lieutenant Hawkeye was rolling her eyes behind him. Al, on the other hand, was gaping audibly, having never had the opportunity to see Roy use this particular method of persuasion before.. And the nurse? She stammered out a weak, "I-I can't. Mr. Elrci d-doesn't want you to go in. I'm sorry…"

In his head, Roy signaled for a round of applause for this woman. She was a little more strong willed than he'd assumed. Time to step it up a notch. "What about just me?" Roy compromised, leaning in closer so that his breath fanned out across the woman's face. "That wouldn't be so bad, and I promise I'll behave. Just for a few minutes. Besides…" Here he paused, moving so that his lips _just_ brushed her cheek as he muttered in her ear, "I assure you I can make this favor well worth your while once you get off work. Or before—maybe we can make use of one of those supply closets…"

A tiny whimper escaped the nurse's mouth, and Roy moved back, knowing he was about to get what he asked for. Completely red faced and trembling for a rather different cause than before, she nodded. "O-okay. But only for a minute." Turning around (to hide her embarrassment, Roy thought), she opened up the door. Smiling widely at the woman, he spun as he exited the waiting room to wink at his companions.

"See you in a minute!"

The door shut again, and the nurse (meeting no one's eyes) scurried from the room. Thoroughly shocked, Alphonse slumped into a chair, staring up at Riza. "That's so unfair."

* * *

Edward jolted to a sitting position as he heard footsteps heading towards his cube. Roy!? How the hell was that possible? Of course, he shouldn't have been surprised that nothing was able to keep Mr. Hothead Flame Alchemist out.

"Really, Ed?" Roy asked, hands on his hips as he approached the containment center. "You told us something personal, so now you hide? Is that honestly how you think this should be handled?"

"I'm not hiding!" Edward protested, his vehemence at Roy's complete accuracy causing his throat to twinge unpleasantly.

"Oh, really?" Roy repeated, laughing. "What do you call it then?"

Mouth open and ready to answer, Ed was nevertheless silent. Because, really, he didn't have a retort. The man was exactly right; he was hiding from their reactions to what he'd said yesterday. The truth was, Edward was convinced that their sympathy would have turned to disapproval after a night to sleep on the information he'd presented. And he couldn't make himself face that—he wouldn't be able to handle being so alone. So instead of responding to Roy's challenge, he questioned, "How'd you even get in here?"

The Colonel waved a hand in dismissal. "I seduced the nurse guarding the door." Slowly, a smile dawned on Roy's face. "So if you're worried about me judging you for kissing Chen, don't be. I used sex appeal to sneak into a quarantine area—that's _definitely_ worse that what you did."

At those words, Ed deflated, allowing himself to be a little relieved. Clearly Roy wasn't mad at him, which meant that Al couldn't be either, given that his brother had a much more even temper. Riza, now, she was a wildcard, but at the very least he had two people who weren't going to chew him out. And that got rid of a _lot_ of anxiety he'd managed to build up over night.

Seeing the change in Edward, Roy sat down in one of the now ever-present chairs in front of the cube. "Talk to me, Ed. Why wouldn't you let us in? It's not like you've got anything left you haven't told us—right?"

"No, I don't, it's just…what I did was wrong," Edward began after a moment, gaze resolutely stuck on his blankets. "I cheated on my fiancée, I—"

"I disagree," the other man interrupted. "'Cheating' generally implies that you intentionally went after someone else. Or you gave in eagerly to their advances. Chen _surprised_ you, Ed. If you got out of here today, and I planted one on you, it wouldn't be cheating because _I_ would have initiated it. Chen went after you, Ed, not the other way around. Don't you see the difference?"

Edward struggled, his hands fisting in the hospital sheets beneath him. That was _quite_ an interesting analogy—and effective. Yes, to an extent, he saw the different, but… "But I liked it," he whispered.

Silence permeated the room for a time, long enough for Ed to look up, fearful that his statement would have changed Roy's mind. However, the Colonel seemed merely thoughtful. "So…what, you're a little gay? Is _that_ what you're worried about—believe me, no one gives a shit."

"T-that's beside the point!" Ed replied hurriedly, his face going crimson. "I only meant that—that if I liked it, it was cheating!"

"Nah, it's still the intent that counts. I mean, yeah, this could throw a wrench in your relationship with Winry, but it's not cheating. Okay?"

Ever so slowly, Edward nodded. He supposed that made sense—it might have hurt Winry, but because it was an accident, because he didn't reciprocate the kiss even if he did enjoy it a little, it wasn't cheating. "Okay."

"So—"

The Colonel's next words were interrupted by the nurse Edward had asked to keep everyone out walking into the room. She looked more than a little flustered—though he supposed that was to be expected after a round of flirting with Roy. "Sir, I have to ask you to leave now. It's been long enough."

Glancing from the woman back to Ed, Roy raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Edward sighed, shutting his eyes. He supposed it was a little idiotic to try to avoid everyone just because he didn't want to have to have an awkward discussion. "No," he said, opening his eyes again and addressing the nurse. "I've changed my mind, go ahead and let Al and Riza in as well."

Blinking at his sudden change of heart, the nurse waited a beat before nodding and turning back around, calling his other two visitors in. Alphonse, of course, rushed up to the glass and began berating him immediately. "What the hell, Brother? You can't just take advantage of the fact that you're in a hospital to stop us from seeing you—that's so _mean_! Why wouldn't you just talk to us?"

Opening and closing his mouth several times, Ed wad saved from having to respond by Roy blurting out, "He was upset 'cause he felt like he'd cheated on Winry, which I kindly explained was bullshit. Oh, and he's kinda gay, so that might be upsetting him as well. I told him we wouldn't judge him."

Riza tilted her head to the side before smiling—it was almost an unnerving expression, and Ed's hand shook slightly as he reached out to grab a bottle of grape juice from his side table. "Well, of course we won't, because that would be a little hypocritical on the part of a certain someone…"

"Lieutenant—" Roy began, his voice suddenly stern, but it was too late to stop her from finishing her thought.

"…considering the Colonel here is 'kinda gay' himself."

Needless to say, there was a bit of commotion following that declaration. Edward promptly spit out the juice he'd been taking a swig of, and Alphonse's jaw just about unhinged it fell open so far. Of course, Roy's protest drowned out every other reaction, as he shouted, "You can't just go bringing that up, Lieutenant! We agreed that you wouldn't say anything, just because you're _mad_ that I used my charms to get in here doesn't give you the right to renege on an agreement—"

"We've also discussed, sir," Riza responded coldly, "that you flirting with people for work purposes is cruel, misleading, and—most of all— _annoying."_

Unable, apparently, to respond, Roy merely crossed his arms, his cheeks distinctly tinged with pink. Edward coughed twice as he recovered (mostly) from choking on his drink, before exclaiming breathlessly, "You're _gay_?"

"Bisexual, thank you very much," Roy sniffed moodily, his flush deepening. "And it was _supposed_ to stay a secret."

Hawkeye, to everyone's surprise, let out a tiny giggle. "If you were so interested in keeping it a secret, you should have sought entertainment outside the office, Colonel."

At this point, Alphonse came out of his shock, shaking his head vigorously and simply asking, " _What?"_

And despite Roy's fervent grumblings, Riza was more than happy to offer up an explanation. "I walked in on him and Havoc once," she stated simply. "They forgot to lock his office door."

Ed was absolutely frozen—all he could seem to do was blink. It wasn't exactly unthinkable; after the initial shock of hearing Roy say he was bisexual, it made sense to Edward that someone as flirtatious as him wouldn't be inhibited by gender. But even though it was logical, it was hard to accept that Roy, who was famous for his skill with women, would also enjoy the company of other men. Moreover, that fact was making him almost _embarassed._ Ed felt a blush to mirror Roy's creeping up on his face, and he felt uncomfortably warm. But perhaps the worst thing was that his heart was begging to speed up, something that was (thanks to his heart monitor) immediately evident to everyone in the room.

"Are…you okay Brother? Do you need a nurse?" Al questioned hesitantly as that ever-present beeping continued to increase in rate. Of course, the mention of it only made Edward flush deeper—and made his heartbeats continue to spike.

It was Roy who, with what Ed swore was a flashing smile, drew the attention away from their current discussion and back to the problem at hand. "Anyway, my personal life aside, that's what Ed was grappling with. And, just hazarding a guess here, but I'd say Winry isn't too happy about his sexuality."

The last statement hadn't been a question, but Edward confirmed it anyway, ironically rather glad that they were back on this track. "Right. She doesn't mind gay people—I mean, she was working with this one guy in Rush Valley that was _flaming_ —but she doesn't like the idea of dating or marrying someone who's interested in the same sex." Ed looked away, eyes clouding over suddenly. "She hasn't spoken to me about it after the initial conversation, acting like that's not even on her mind. But I can tell. And it…bothers me," he admitted quietly. "It's not my fault. It's not like I asked for this. And it doesn't mean I'm not attracted to her as well…"

"Oh, Brother…" Alphonse sighed, pressing himself up against the glass. "I'm sorry. I wish—I wish I could just _hug_ you!" he exclaimed, exasperated. "This quarantine thing is so inconvenient!"

Laughing a little sadly, Ed agreed, "That's one way to put it."

"You really just have to talk to her—candidly and completely, I mean," Riza interjected. "It's silly for you two to both be sitting alone and miserable when you could just get it over with."

"But what if we talk, and it ends badly?" Edward protested, his fists clenching in his blankets. "What—what if she wants to leave me?"

The room was quiet for a long moment. Neither Al nor Riza seemed to want to meet Ed's eyes, but Roy stared intently at him as he measured his words. "Ed," the man began gently. "If you're even worried about that, maybe that's just what has to happen. Yes, you need to talk to her, but from what I can see, sexuality aside, she wants someone stable who is maybe a little more done with adventure than you are. And if that's the case, it's not fair to you or to her to keep the engagement up. It's better to just figure it out so that, if need be, you can both move on and be happy instead of feeling trapped by each other. You just need to know that regardless of what happens we'll be here for you."

There's nothing worse than realizing that, as little as you want to, you need to take someone's advice, and that was the situation Ed found himself in. "Yeah, you're right," he said, exhaling heavily. "It's time." Edward took a deep breath, steeling himself for his next words. "Will you go get her?"


	7. Chapter 7

Winry decided not to answer the first three knocks on her hotel door. At the moment, she was concentrating on not fucking up this bit of metal she's fussing with. If she could _just_ get this screw in (here, with a wince of frustration, she decides not to answer the second, louder set of knocks), she'd have made one of if not _the_ smoothest joints to be used in automail fingers. It's a bit of a shame, really; she always had been able to do her best work when irate or distressed, so it was no wonder she was onto this revolutionary change while cooped up in a hotel room because her idiot fiancé got himself sick going around kissing strangers (more raps at her door, this time a little more frantic).

Finally, her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth in her concentration, Winry did it—the infinitesimal screw caught, she turned it and viola! Complete. Only at that point did she give in and get up, walking to the door before whatever numbskull was outside broke it and she had to pay for the damages. "I'm coming already, jeez!" she shouted out, twisting the lock. With a rather violent movement, she wrenched the door open…and snorted. She wasn't too surprised to find Lieutenant Hawkeye standing there, although she would have placed her bets on seeing Al.

Riza held up a hand before Winry could speak. "I realize you probably don't want to see me, but if we could just move past the part where you're mad that I'm here this will be a lot less trouble for the both of us."

99% of Winry wanted to argue and be angry anyway, but Hawkeye was too reasonable a woman. Sighing a sharp sigh of resignation, she waved the Lieutenant in and sat on her bed, legs and arms crossed somewhat defensively. "Well?"

Without missing a beat, Riza followed her over the threshold, though she deigned to remain standing as she spoke. "Edward told us everything that happened over in Xing and is really beating himself up about it all. We've talked with him but it's really time for you two to just hash it out."

The bland hotel room seemed to become darker all over, as though a cloud had passed over it. Winry blinked before a laugh escaped her, hysterical and scathing. She brushed flyaway hairs from her eyes and clarified, "You came because Ed's upset about what he did? He's just really wasting away with guilt, is he? Good!" she shouted, jumping up with her fists balled at her sides. "How _dare_ you come in here and try to tell me it's my job to go patch his poor little feelings up!? What about _me_?"

Staring calmly at the tiny spectacle Winry was making, Hawkeye answered her, cool and collected as always. "I'm not saying that at all. I _know_ everything must hurt right now, even though I don't believe that Edward would ever intend to harm you, and I'm sorry. Truly, I am. What I mean is that he is beating himself up, and you're wallowing in sorrow over here, and it's not fair to either of you to keep this bottled up. You don't deserve to sit here thinking about what happened in Xing and anything else that's bothering you—but neither does he. The only solution for both of you is for you to go talk with him."

Predictably, Winry's indignation disappeared as quickly as it had come in the face of Hawkeye's reasoning. This was probably why Ed had her come—Riza was the _hardest_ person to argue with because she was always _right_. "And what if I don't?" She meant it as a challenge, though it really came off as more of a hypothetical. Really, if the Lieutenant was determined that she and Ed talk, that's exactly what was going to happen.

"Then I start feeling a lot less sorry for you," the other woman responded dispassionately. "Now would be a good time," she added.

Huffing, Winry allowed her head to loll to the side. She stared at the automail she'd been tinkering with, now lying on her bedside table. Unfortunately, deep down she agreed; she'd done all of the musing she could do on her own, and postponing this conversation would only make it worse when it had to happen. "Fine."

* * *

Edward couldn't raise his gaze from his blankets as he heard Winry come in. Anxiety, shame, whatever you wanted to cal it, he found it hard to face her. It wasn't until one of the chairs outside his cube squeaked as it was moved a little across the floor that he chanced a glance up. Winry opened her mouth as soon as their eyes met, as though she'd been waiting for that moment in particular to speak. "You better not have been talking shit about me."

 _What?_ "What?" Ed repeated his mental question aloud, more than a little dumbfounded. "I haven't said anything about you—why would you think that?"

"Because Roy's sitting in the waiting room with Al and Riza, and as soon as I walked in he started glaring at me."

Oh. That was interesting. Maybe he'd taken Winry's not being comfortable being in a relationship with a non-straight person a little personally? "I dunno," Edward said, fiddling with the edge of his sheet. "I promise you I haven't trashed you at all though." A sad little laugh escaped his lips. "Really, I've only trashed myself."

Silence enveloped the room—evidently, Winry didn't have a response to that comment. Regardless of setting, quiet in their current situation would be awkward, but to Edward, trapped inside the glass…it was unbearable. Suffocating. The air he was breathing felt hot and heavy—and not in the sexy way. "Please, say something," he whispered, looking away from his fiancée again.

"What do you want me to say, Edward? I—I don't know where to begin on this," she confessed.

"Just tell me what you're thinking."

There was a long sigh, and then nothing. Finally, "Look at me, Ed."

So he did. Her hair was still long, longer than it had ever been when they were younger. Winry still dressed the same, though, right down to the multitude of earrings she had. She was wearing a sweatshirt, which made Ed think she had probably been dealing with some automail recently. She _always_ changed into a tiny top and sweats when she was working, even if it was a five minute project. That was just _Winry_. Now, pushing a lock of blonde behind her ear, she spoke. "I'm hurt, Ed. I know you didn't mean to kiss anyone else, and it's not even really that that I hold against you. It's that you _enjoyed_ it. I just think, if you really loved me, your first reaction would have been more angry than pleased. And while I rationally know that's not something you can help, it still upsets me. But it's not just that," Winry went on, stopping Edward from breaking in. "I've been at least a little mad ever since you proposed. Because you asked me to marry you, and then got on a train and left me, and hardly ever came back to boot. You've made it exceedingly clear that I came second to traveling. It's like—it's like you were putting me on reserve, because you _might_ want me some day in the future and you didn't want anyone else to be able to snatch me up while you were away."

"That's not what it was," Ed protested. "I wanted both you and the travel. I didn't want to leave without making that clear to you."

But Winry only shook her head. "But you've _never_ been attentive, or romantic, or anything."

"You can't ask me to change who I am, Winry." Edward looked her dead in the eyes as he said this—if he was sure about anything in this moment, it was that he wasn't going to alter himself for _anyone_. That wasn't how he wanted to go through life.

"But that's not who you are. You _are_ caring, and you pay attention to the craziest little details—look at how you are with Alphonse! You wrote to him more than you did to me while you were gone, and even remembered May's birthday."

"Well, you're not so perfect either," Edward replied hotly, cheeks brightening with both anger and embarrassment as she ticked off his sins. "You're always with your automail, and if I do the slightest thing wrong you go around throwing wrenches at me! Not to mention," he added, thinking of their most recent issues, "that every time you look at me I can see that little flash of disgust. And it's because it was a guy, wasn't it?"

Flushing, Winry countered, "Every time I see you, I can't help but think about it! How you might enjoy sucking some guy off in a back alley or taking it up the ass…how would you feel if you looked at me and thought about my face on some other girl's boobs?"

"Like you were free to make your own goddamn decisions—and what's this bullshit about a back alley?" Ed tried to control himself, he really did, but his voice was rising. In his current state, it made his life quite a bit more painful, especially in the throat area, but he couldn't help it. She was questioning his dignity. "If I was with a guy it'd be someone I _care_ about in a _bedroom_ , I'd do it properly, I'm not just some sleeze—"

Too late, the implications of what he was saying hit. Edward was genuinely thinking about sex with someone other than his fiancée—objectively and hypothetically, yes, but without concern. Winry seemed to be thinking the same thing. "See? It doesn't bother you to think about being with someone else. And to be fair," she murmured quietly, in reaction to his guilty expression, "it's not like it's only you—I look at couples on the street and wish I had someone who would be like that with me. I've…I've even thought about how you'd never know if I did bang someone. I never have, but it's still horrible of me. It's not even that you're a bad guy, it's just…maybe we've grown too different. Maybe you proposed to me to preserve something we might have had way back, before everything went to shit. Before your mom died, even. But it's just too late, and we've gone through too much to get that back."

A sick, sick feeling came up in the pit of Ed's stomach, like some sleeping monster had woken up and started gnawing on his insides. For a moment he tasted bile. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying it's time to stop kidding ourselves," Winry murmured, smiling sadly. "We're better off as friends, Ed. Maybe we can't even be that for a while, until we've both moved on, but we just…aren't right for each other. I hate to say that, but it's true." She sniffed, wiping a tear away from watery blue eyes. "And I think you see it too."

Perhaps it was just Edward's character that made him jump automatically to self-disgust. Winry was right—she apparently didn't see him as husband material, and he, realistically, didn't feel the right way about their relationship either. It was, for him, more nostalgic than anything. She was a thread he didn't want to let go of; like she'd said, a childhood crush he had wanted to stay connected to. But his kiddie years had been over for a long time. There was no way he could ever just get over everything that had happened, from his mother's disease to his and Al's missing body parts to defeating Father. Maybe proposing to Winry instead of just keeping her in his life in a platonic way _had_ been a method of trying to stay in touch with his younger, innocent self. And yes, it was time to put that behind him. To accept that he'd been shaped by what he'd done and that he had to find someone for him in the _now_ , not him in the _past_.

"Yeah. I do." Edward took a deep, shaky breath. Knowing breaking off their engagement was the right thing to do didn't make it any easier, didn't make his heart ache any less. "You came in here knowing we'd break it off, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry too, Ed. But this is best," she said by way of answer. So that was a yes, then. She stood, a few tears now flowing freely down her cheeks as she made no move to stop them. Winry gave a little awkward wave. "If you don't mind, I'm going to head out. I know this is horrible timing, with you being sick and all, but I just don't think I can handle sticking around right now."

"No, I understand." He himself wasn't going to be able to keep it together long. Already tears were burning the corners of his eyes and his breath was coming a little too shallow.

"I'll write, sometime. Maybe in a few months you could visit, or…something."

"Yeah," Ed managed. The room was swimming, his vision blurred but he _would. Not. Cry._ Not yet, anyway.

"Well…" Winry, he could barely see, now stood several feet from the glass walls surrounding him. Maybe if he could have, Edward would have given her a last hug. But that wasn't an option, and he had to just watch her step backwards. "Goodbye, then."

"Goodbye."


	8. Chapter 8

The next day, Alphonse came into the quarantine center in full-blown comfort mode. Ed wouldn't have been surprised if his brother had tried to convince his doctors to allow him some ice cream to drown his sorrows in. As it was, Al's arms were full of books—evidently, he aimed to distract Edward with some light reading—and his head doubtless just as stuffed with reassurances and reasons Ed was going to be just dandy. Behind him trailed Roy and Riza, both looking a little unprepared to deal with Al's enthusiasm for his mission but nevertheless ready to help in whatever way possible.

"Al," Ed called out as they approached, "you're worrying too much again."

"Nonsense," his brother chirped, smiling hugely. "I'm not worrying at all because there's nothing to worry about."

Well, he couldn't argue with that. Rolling his eyes as they all settle into their chairs before him, Edward busied himself with pulling his fingers through his hair. He'd been given sponge baths periodically during his time in the cube, but while his hair was clean it was by no means untangled after a night spent tossing on the hospital bed.

"Are you sure you're alright, Ed? We can listen if you need to talk," Riza offered. Al shot her a glare; evidently his method of steering clear of the sensitive topic at hand didn't include that statement.

"No, Al's right, there's nothing to be worried about," Edward insisted. And for a moment he really thought that would be the end of the discussion.

"I have to admit, I'm a little surprised," Roy confessed. "You're taking this really…well. Like, _really_ well. Given how upset you were before, I was expecting some waterworks."

Ignoring that last comment, Edward sighed before explaining, "I think I just feel better now that it's over. It's not like I'm not upset," he admitted, his voice and eyes lowering in unison, "but at least I know where we stand now. It's…rough, and it hurts, but I'm not being eaten up by not knowing anymore. It's at least comforting to know it's done and over with…like I've been given permission to heal and move past all that now."

"Good for you!" Roy congratulated, his dark eyes sparkling. The man raised his coffee cup in a sort of half-toast, half-salute. "That's the best way to look at it."

"See, so I'm handling this fine," Ed reiterated. "If we don't all mind moving on now..."

Alphonse jumped, literally, in his seat. It seemed he had been waiting for an opening like this. Frantically, he started to rifle through the books on his lap and those that had spilled to the floor. "Oh! Yes! I brought all these, I thought maybe I could read one aloud, since you can't have them in there obviously, it might entertain you—"

Out of the corner of his eye, Edward noticed Roy and Riza exchanging a somewhat exasperated glance. "Actually," the former interrupted hurriedly, "I've been wanting to hear a little more about Ed's trip since he got his voice back." Turning away from Al, Roy asked, "Got any good Xing stories?"

The emphasis on the word "good" wasn't lost on Edward; obviously, the other man was remembering the last and only story he'd told them all about his trip to Xing and hoping to hear something of a more positive nature. It just so happened that he _did_ have some tales of that persuasion…or, well, maybe not "good" but _definitely_ interesting. Not upsetting, at least, and that was the main thing. "Hmm…" he mused aloud, still combing through his hair. "Oh! What about my tiger encounter?"

"You're _what_!?" Riza gasped, eyes widening. A wide grin spread across Ed's face. Judging by her expression, that sounded exciting enough. That was fair, considering in Amestris the only tigers you might hope to see were kept in zoos, and there were few even there.

"Yep, you heard right. It was after I'd left you, Al, and began wandering a little in the more wild areas of Xing," he began. "I really have to tell you first how ridiculously _beautiful_ it is over there, especially away from civilization. The cities are nice, don't get me wrong, but somehow Xingese forests are just so much…quieter. Here, it feels like there's always some human noise or interference—the only time I haven't felt that was when we were training on that island. In Xing, stepping into a forest feels like you're turning back the clock and stepping into a period before humans ever even thought about living there. Even the trails that I was walking on felt like they must have been made by animals rather than by people. It's…baffling, and wonderful."

Pausing before his already rapt audience, Ed reached over and took a quick sip of apple juice. Talking for so long, like this, still made his throat twinge unpleasantly. "The wildlife over there is different as well. Some of the trees are the same, but there's also the bamboo— _so_ much of it. When I was walking, I'd go for hours and still be meandering through bamboo stalks. That's really a mysterious feeling. Even though it's not as thick as some of our trees, somehow it feels like the bamboo hides more, especially in the early morning when the ground is covered in mist. It seems like something could just jump out at you at any moment…not in a horrific kind of way, but in the way that makes your adrenaline pump; like adventure is right around the next bend. And there's plenty of other plant life that I couldn't begin to classify. It's crazy, though; here flowers are such a big deal, but in Xing they aren't even necessary. The leaves themselves, and the mosses and vines, and the way the light shines through and bounces off boulders…it's all more than enough. Those areas don't need flowers to be beautiful."

Edward smiled, remembering all this. He let his eyes drift shut, allowing himself, in his mind, to return to that place. "Of course, me being me, it was only a matter of time before I got too curious. I headed off the trails, and at first that was even more magical. On the trail, the only animals you really saw were birds and squirrels and frogs, that sort of thing. But off the trail—and mind you, I was careful enough to use a compass so I didn't get lost—nature just _exploded_. I would be walking and all of a sudden deer would pop out in front of me, frozen and quivering at my intrusion. It was so hard, but I had to look away, and only then would they continue on to wherever they were going. The monkeys were less cautious and more curious, and one night out there they raided my bag. It wasn't a big deal, as I'd brought tons of backup food, but it did make me a little more watchful. I had rabbits and owls next to me on land, and when I crossed streams I saw salamanders of all kinds of sizes. Not to mention that the water was so clear you could see the fish swimming through. That was a real treat in the early morning, when the sun shone _just_ right and their silver fins reflected rainbows."

It was like he was there again, like his three listeners had ceased to exist for the moment. Ed could smell the air, clean and fresh and untainted, and hear the forest around him thrumming with life. "I walked and walked—sometimes I wondered if I'd ever find it in me to stop. But I do have limits, and at one point I spotted a bear in the distance. I'd entered the territory of the larger predators, and I decided it was time to get out. It wasn't so much the bears I was worried about as the wild boars—those suckers are _nasty_. So I turned right around and started retracing my footsteps, which was harder than it sounds. Sometimes something dangerous is almost appealing enough to make you take the risk, but I didn't in that case. I think if I had still had my alchemy, I might still be in that forest, fighting off some animals and making friends with others, but as it was I wasn't going to test my odds."

Another gulp. His throat was drying out, which made his voice a little raspy and unpleasant for story time. "I saw the tracks first," Ed went on. "I remember thinking I had to be going crazy; usually, tigers don't stray as far south as I was. But there was nothing else around that could possibly make that paw print. Needless to say, I was on the lookout. A tiger, especially one that had reason to stray from its territory, was not something I wanted to be dealing with. Probably _because_ I was actually being reasonable for once, that's exactly what ended up happening. Only I didn't meet the tiger, or rather tigress, first—I met the baby."

Opening his eyes slowly, Edward gauged his friends' reactions. Alphonse was leaning forward, books forgotten and elbows resting on his knees, eyes intent. Riza had the same expression on her face as when she was being given orders; the look of someone set on absorbing and remembering information. And Roy appeared somewhat lofty, like he was lost in the clouds of Ed's story. It made the man appear softer, somehow, and Ed felt a hot flash of pride at being able to relax the uptight Colonel so completely. "It didn't know to be scared of me, I think," he continued softly. "I doubt he'd ever seen a human before, and being used to being the top of the food chain, he had no reason to fear anything…except being alone. I've heard people scream, but it's different with animals. Maybe our intelligence changes our terror; we're smart, and so even in our worst moments we feel we may be able to find a way out. This tiger, he was so small, and so _alone_ , and he _cried_. It was so…" Ed struggled to find the words. "Heartbreaking. I _knew_ it was stupid to stay with him, because doubtless the bigger prints I'd seen were mama coming to find her baby. But I've always been bad at leaving people when they need me, and so I couldn't just _go_."

Now, Roy and Riza wore mirror expressions; tired and sorrowful, and guilty. With a jolt, Edward realized how much what he'd said must have reminded them of the people in Ishval. Yes, he'd heard humans wailing when dealing with Father, but that was nothing compared to what they'd been through. Forced to commit genocide. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't mean to…"

"Please," the Lieutenant replied, her voice surprisingly strong. "We know. Keep going."

Nodding, Ed tried to bring a more joyful edge to his words. "I just walked right up to the baby. Like I said, he didn't know enough to be scared, he just kept shouting. Even in that situation, I wasn't crazy enough to try to touch a _tiger_ , but I did talk to him. I just kept telling him that it was okay, while I was walking beside him, and that he wasn't alone anymore. Sometimes he got quieter, and I felt like maybe I really was helping. Of course, what he really wanted was to be home, so he still whined a _lot_. Like I said, it would have been smarter to get out of there, but I couldn't do it. I just couldn't. So I was standing right next to this little tiger, not five feet away, when his mom finally showed up. She was, to this day, the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen—even given what happened next. Of course, she was _angry_. Her kid had been missing, and she suddenly found him with me. An unknown entity. One second I'm staring at her, and the next second I'm on the ground. She'd pounced on me, and I couldn't breathe. My one shoulder had definitely dislocated, and all I could see was hundreds of pounds of muscle on me. And teeth. When I finally got my breath back, I just said—I shit you not—'My God.' I've never before used that phrase, and I doubt I'll ever find a situation appropriate enough to do so again, but it was the only thing that would come out. I couldn't even scream. This tiger growls, gets closer to my face, and I hear a scraping—her back paw on my automail leg. I'd never been so glad to have automail; if I didn't before, I would now, after the cut that would have made. And then the craziest thing happens: the baby comes up to his mom, who's snarling in my face and about to fillet me, and just starts nuzzling her neck."

A cough bubble up in his throat, and Ed spent a good half minute in the throes of a fit, much to the annoyance of his audience. Finally, wheezing, he started up again. "It was so _bizarre_. On the one hand, all I can think is that I'm about to die, and on the other hand I see this little fuzz ball snuggling his mother. It didn't fit at all, but it saved my life, because she stopped staring me down for a second. She started sniffing the baby instead, and I guess she realized he was all right, because her weight shifted and she got off of me. I wasn't stupid enough to move as they walked away—I was busy thanking my lucky stars I was even still kicking. She kept looking back at me through the leaves, and I swear there was a threat in those eyes. If I'd even so much as twitched, I'd have been that cub's next meal. But I guess she'd realized I hadn't hurt her boy, and was more concerned with getting him back to safety than eating me. Once they were out of view I high tailed it out of there like nobody's business, cursing the whole way. It all feels like a dream, now, or like something out of a fairytale: _The Guy who Survived the Tiger_."

Finally finished with his story, Edward downed the rest of his juice. Al, Riza, and Roy sat, just staring blankly at him. "Um, guys? That's the end."

As though they'd been released from a spell, Hawkeye and his brother spoke at the same time.

"You're an idiot, Brother!"

"That's unbelievable."

"I know," Ed replied, laughing. "On both counts. I gotta say, though, I'm surprised you let me get all that out," he teased. "I expected more interruptions."

"It's because you're an amazing storyteller," Roy complimented, nodding his head and smiling, not a wide smile but a deep one. "You had us all glued to our seats. We'd just have messed up the mood if we said anything."

Heat blossomed in his stomach, moving up and settling in his chest. Ed didn't think he'd ever felt so…flattered. Of course, being Edward Elric, the only proper way to respond was with another jibe. "Well, at least now I know how to get you all quiet!"

"No, really Brother, you should write these down!" Alphonse insisted over Roy's indignant huff. "Once you decide to settle down, you could be an author and just talk about your travels, people would definitely read them."

"He's got a point there, Ed," Riza agreed. She looked more animated than she usually allowed herself to as she requested, "Any more?"

"Well…Al knows about this one, but I did eat street sushi as a dare, which is crazier than it sounds…"

As he launched into his second tale, Edward slowly became aware of Roy just…gazing at him. The other man was paying attention to his words, yes, but he seemed to also be just as captivated by Ed's very presence. His teeth glinted from a lazily smiling mouth. Ed rather thought the expression would have been more in place over a candlelit dinner, and the very idea made him flush. Perhaps he was taking his breakup with Winry _too_ well, if he had stupid notions like that running through his head. Obviously, Roy was just reacting to the story, and Edward was reading too much into it. Even so, he couldn't help glancing over at the Colonel a little too often, a little too long. And every time, that same expression lingered. Affection.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey guys! First off, I wanted to explain (for anyone wondering) where I got the forest creatures from...I know it's a kind of weird conglomeration. I tried to include animals that would be found in Japanese forests as well as those from China, which gave me a weird mix, I know-but I'm not crazy, I promise. I also hope that story wasn't too over the top or anything, it just popped into my head and it 1) seemed like something that would happen to Ed and 2) gave me a chance to include a teensy reference to Roy and Riza's involvement in Ishval. It's something I tend to overlook in my fics and I want this one to be different, so I thought this would be a good way to begin introducing that theme.**

 **Anyway, hope you enjoyed!**


	9. Chapter 9

Considering that they had been coming in every morning of the fourteen days Ed had been stuck in quarantine, he'd gotten quite used to his set of visitors, emphasis on _set_. The only other time Roy had come in alone was when he'd tricked his way in. Seeing the Colonel striding towards his cube with no one else in tow made Edward nervous.

"What's wrong? Are Riza and Al okay?" Ed asked (a little demandingly if truth be told) the second the other man was within earshot.

Roy had apparently anticipated this line of questioning, and was already waving his hands for calm when Edward opened his mouth. "Relax. There was a spot of trouble back east, nothing too serious, but the team wanted me to come back. Obviously I said no, so I sent Lieutenant Hawkeye back instead."

For some reason, Ed had woken up feeling warm. Not friendly warm, not cuddling under a blanket in the winter warm. Uncomfortable warm, from inside his head. But now he was feeling a smoother, kinder coil of heat bubbling up in his stomach. Unable to stop himself, a Cheshire grin spread across his face. "'Obviously?'"

"Yes." Roy raised his eyebrows as he settled into his customary chair, as though his meaning and logic should be plain. "I made a promise to stay here with you until you were allowed to leave the hospital, and I'm damn well going to keep it."

"Oh, that," Ed teased. "I thought maybe it was my charming personality and fiendishly great hair keeping you here."

The other man leaned his head back and laughed heartily. Not the chuckles Edward was used to, but real all out laughter. He'd only seen Roy uninhibited like this a few times, and Ed found he liked the sensation. It was nice to know that, despite their commonplace arguments, the Colonel trusted him enough to relax a little. "Charming? I don't think so. Now the hair, that I can agree on. Have you ever even cut it? You look more and more like a princess each day."

"Yeah well, keep that kind of comment up and this princess is going to turn priss and kick your ass," Edward retorted, tossing the blonde locks currently in question over his shoulder. "But hey, you only answered half my question. What about Al? Where's he?"

"I'm really not supposed to tell you—though _what_ kind of excuse he possibly thought I could make up is beyond me," Roy drawled. "He's planning a surprise party. For when you get out."

"Wow," Ed commented, tilting his head to the side and smiling mischievously. "You're _really_ easy to get secrets out of. First a touch of gayness, now spoiling my brother's plans…you're an open book, huh?"

Shifting his weight and crossing his legs, Roy leaned forward so that his elbow was resting on his knee, and his chin in a hand. His responding grin was more mysterious than anything. "Oh no, just strategic. If you found out what I was keeping for you, I'd be in for an ass-whooping—or at least, a loud shouting match. And I make it my business to avoid dealing with your temper whenever possible."

"Bullshit," Ed declared. "You used to get me all riled up just for kicks."

"Yeah, that's true." Now the smile was smug, igniting a spark of the old irritation in Edward's gut. "It's just really fun to watch you get all red and flustered. Although recently I think I've decided your embarrassed face is much more exciting than your angry one."

Bastard Colonel! Judging from the self-satisfied expression on Roy's features, he knew that kind of statement was going to get Ed in the state he'd just described: red and flustered with discomfort. Oh, the irony. However, the (mood?) was abruptly interrupted when Roy stood up, pushing his chair back with enough force that it almost tipped. Shocked, Edward could only blink, following the other man with curious eyes as he circled the cube. Slowly, Roy came to a stop next to Ed, his head not visible as he queried, "Can you stand?"

Edward was a smart person, but he still in no way saw where Roy was going with this. "Um…yeah? I mean they've had me standing up for sponge baths lately—I can fucking hear you snickering. It's not like I can shower in here, okay?"

"I know, I know. Do you think you could stand up on this side of the bed? Closest to where I am now?"

Still muttering indignantly, Ed complied with the request. It wasn't as simple as it sounded—though he was hooked up to fewer wires now than at the beginning of his containment, it wasn't like he had a free range of movement. Still, with a bit of finagling (thank goodness these machines had wheeled bases) he managed to do it, and soon stood facing Roy—or rather, facing the monitor blocking Roy.

"Okay, good. Now…any chance you can sit down?"

"The hell would I do that for?"

Sighing heavily, the Colonel demonstrated. On his side of the glass he lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross legged. It was hysterical to see the man in such a casual position, but more importantly, Ed could see his face. _Oh_. Immediately he set about copying Roy's movements. If he could work this out, he and Roy could be face to face. He'd be closer to a non-medical individual than he had been in weeks, and that was quite appealing.

So of course, with that kind of motivation, he did it.

As a race, human beings are essentially social creatures. We enjoy contact with each other, even superficially. And so even though Edward had (and in the future, would have) many occasions to smile so hard and so bright that it hurt his cheeks, the grin that crossed his face when he was able to look Roy in the eye in that moment was special.

And, obviously, returned in kind.

"How'd you think of this?" Ed asked, placing the palms of his hands flat against the glass. It was a comfort thing, contact without real contact, and Roy understood that, mirroring the action. Maybe if they kept their hands in that position long enough, they'd actually feel each other's heat.

"I'm a planner," Roy answered, shrugging. "Point is, this is much nicer, isn't it?"

"Nicer" didn't even begin to cover it. If there was a way to feel pleasantly ill, enjoyably anxious, that was the experience he was having. Somehow he felt tense, but in a sort of hopeful way. Like butterflies in his stomach, except it was more like feathers all over his body, threatening to tickle him. "You're tanner up close," Ed remarked, hoping to, via a gentle ribbing at Roy's expense, calm his heartbeat. The heartbeat that was still (to his annoyance) broadcasting loud and clear, and in this moment faster than it had reason to be.

"Being in the sun in Ishval will do that to you."

"It's just been so long," Edward explained softly, tearing his gaze away from Roy's for the first time. Somehow seeing that subtle change in skin tone really… _injured_ him.

"Whoa, whoa, hey…Ed, what's wrong?" Gentle, Roy's voice was so damn gentle. In the past, this sort of tone had been a rare occurrence, and Edward had assumed that was still the case. What if it wasn't? What if Roy was just _sweet_ now? "Ed, don't make me tell you to use your words."

The somewhat silly threat knocked him _just_ far enough out of his thoughts to be coherent. And upfront. "I just lost my fiancée because I'd become so distant from my past self and couldn't reclaim that version of me," Edward said bluntly. "And I just realized…I don't regret my travels, and I saw some wonderful things, but what if I've done it again? What if everyone's changed since I last saw them, and I've lost those bonds too?"

"Edward Elric." Okay, _whoooooaaa._ Roy had never sounded so stern or commanding, even when he'd literally been Ed's superior officer. But even so, there was no reason on Earth that hearing his name said like that should be making him _tingly_.

"Do you honestly believe," Roy went on, raising his voice slightly to combat the suddenly _rushing_ rate of Ed's heartbeat, "that I'd be sitting on a damn floor to talk to you up close if we didn't have a bond?" The other man shook his head. "Jeez, all that from me getting a _tan_? Don't worry, I haven't changed. We haven't changed. Or at least, not in a way that's going to pull us apart," he added coyly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Oh, Edward could almost _see_ Roy's thoughts right now. _Success, diversion a complete fucking success_. Didn't stop that from being completely true.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"What are we, kindergartners?"

"Oh please," Roy joked, taking one hand off the barrier between them to wave about. "You give me _way_ too much credit. I'm about a preschooler at best."

Ed had to force his answer out from between giggles. "Just about the most perverted preschooler ever!"

"What can I say, suavity develops early."

They both busted up at that, unable to contain their laughter anymore. Both of them leaned forward, removing their hands from the glass to clutch their stomachs as hilarity overtook them. Realistically, it wasn't all that funny, but something about the moment was just charged with that air that made everything a thousand times more humorous. Maybe Ed's high-running emotions were still in effect, just on a more positive note. That being said, it still only took a moment for each of them to calm down…

And realize that they had both come to rest in similar positions, with their foreheads pressed against the cube's walls. And, more importantly, essentially pressed together.

Both Ed and Roy blinked, but neither man opted to move. Like a light bulb flickering to life, a smile tugged at the corner's of Edward's mouth—and once he was grinning, Roy couldn't help but follow suit. They were just so _close_. Even with the glass between them, yes, but it was more the knowledge that without it their faces would be just about touching…something about it felt daring, and it made Ed's head light.

"Wow," Roy finally breathed. "Your eyes are really…alive."

"Well, yeah," Ed laughed. "I'm sick, not dead!"

"No," the other man protested, raising a finger to trace the outline of Edward's iris through the glass. "That's not what I mean. Haven't you seen it in some people? They're walking, talking, breathing, but…their eyes are just stone cold, like there's nothing there. Like they're a shell. But your eyes are so _bursting_ with activity. It's exciting. Beautiful."

Ed rather thought, hearing that come out of the Colonel's mouth, that without this stupid cube in the way maybe he'd have hugged Roy. Or…something. And that was a little nerve wracking. "And cheesy," he added, though the uneven hitch in his voice kind of wrecked the aloof effect of the words. "I bet you've used a line like that on dozens of other people."

Only shrugging, Roy replied, "Would it make you feel better to know this is the first time I've meant it?"

Well, yes. And no. It _did_ make Edward feel almost _bubbly_ , like a champagne bottle. The flipside, he was maybe a little dizzy. "You're flirting!" he accused.

As brazen as ever, Roy didn't try to deny the charge, merely countering, "And you're staring."

Normally, when something like that was true, Ed would still deny the hell out of it. But that was somewhat harder to do when you're about an inch and a half apart, tops. How was he supposed to _not_ stare? It was actually a sort of irritating; even this close up, the Colonel looked damn near flawless. Bright eyes, gently sloping nose, hair that looked unbearably soft (though Edward still suspected the use of product), strong jaw line…

"Like what you see?" the other man teased, watching as Ed's face grew steadily redder.

"Shut up," Edward muttered. "You know you're—" But he stopped himself, honestly not sure what adjective had been about to fly out of his treacherous mouth. Something overly complimentary, no doubt.

"Oh?" Roy held a hand up to his ear mockingly. "What was that?"

"Nothing!" Ed insisted, heart thumping wildly. "You should stop saying things like that, before the doctors get worried about how fast that's going," he went on, somewhat awkwardly. On the one hand, he was loathe to draw attention to how he was reacting, but at the same time it was a valid point and the only way he was sure to get Roy to stop befuddling him.

Wicked grin in place, Roy agreed, "Okay, okay, just one more thing."

"What?"

"You're sitting cross legged."

Huh? Why did that matter, he sat like this all the time. "So?"

Roy was unable to contain a snicker, which quickly gave way to all out guffawing. He leaned back in mirth, giving Ed some breathing room. He didn't know how to feel about that, surprised by the instant sense of loss the relative distance caused. Finally, the other man calmed down, looking him in the eye and raising an eyebrow. " _So_ , you're not wearing any pants under that hospital gown."

Oh.

Shit.

Ed yelped, scrambling upright and back onto the bed, yanking his cords with him. It was good timing, too, because at that point someone might have thought the heart monitor was connected to a rabbit rather than a person, and his doctors did indeed come pouring in.


	10. Chapter 10

"What do you _mean_ he's sick again?" Roy shouted for the umpteenth time. He was borderline losing it, finger jabbing the chest of doctor in front of him for emphasis. Somehow he thought that maybe if he got loud enough he'd get a different answer.

"I've told you, and I'm getting sick of telling you," the doctor replied testily, brushing off Roy's finger like it was an irritating fly on his lapel. "I even warned you when you started coming here: sometimes, the medications don't work properly. In this case, the antibiotics we started Mr. Elric out on are no longer combating his fever—well, at all really, and it's spiked. We're putting him on a new strain now to see if that helps. I hope that gets through your thick skull because I'm _not_ repeating myself again. We're doing everything we can to help Mr. Elric, and quite frankly you're wasting my valuable time making me say this over and over."

"But he was _fine_ yesterday!" Roy insisted desperately. There had to be some kind of mistake.

"Roy," Alphonse piped up hoarsely from his seat in the waiting room. "Leave it." He'd been sitting there since the doctor first walked in to deliver the news, having just about collapsed upon hearing that Ed's state was declining. Those were the first words he'd spoken in the entire ten minutes Roy had been arguing with the doctor, which was maybe why he listened to the younger man.

Biting his tongue, Roy nodded and sat down as well, though his nerves were still so wracked he couldn't stay still. He settled for bouncing his leg.

"You can still go in and see him, though I doubt he's conscious," the doctor said, a little more kindly now that Roy was out of his face. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

The waiting room grew quiet, aside from the faint tapping of Roy's heels. He couldn't bring himself to speak, anymore, out of sheer terror. Because there was just one little thought nagging at him: what if this was all his fault? _He_ was the one who'd made Ed move yesterday to sit with him. It hadn't been much activity, but for someone as sick as Edward was, maybe it had been enough. Roy couldn't stop thinking that maybe his insistence had made Ed exert himself more than necessary. That could make it harder for his body to fight this thing. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_! All because he wanted to be closer to Ed.

Roy gulped. Closer. Yeah. The second the older Elric brother had confessed his murky sexuality it was like a light over his head had flashed on: AVAILABLE! And then with the engagement ending…the sign turned neon. It was like Roy couldn't be rid of it. Something about Edward was just so _enticing_ to him, it'd always been that way, so Roy jumped at the opportunity to explore something more. Ugh, that was so _gross_ of him. He couldn't even fucking wait until the younger man was out of the hospital for crying out loud. What did that say about him as a person? And now maybe he'd made Ed worse. If Edward…no, he couldn't even think that.

At this point, the carpet was swimming. Tears? No. No, dizziness. He couldn't catch his breath. He almost couldn't believe what was happening, though he'd experienced this before. A panic attack. Roy hadn't had one of those since he started to restore what he'd destroyed in Ishval, but maybe this was enough…he took a deep breath, hoping Alphonse didn't notice him freaking out this much. Maybe it was insanely selfish, but he didn't want to explain that he'd found a way to be closer to Ed, and that might be inevitable if Al started asking questions. Yet another reason he was sort of a despicable human being.

"Hey!" Oh. Alphonse was shaking him. "Roy, calm down."

So yeah, his breakdown was evident. "How?" he croaked. "He was doing so _well_ —"

"And I'm sure he'll be fine once this medicine kicks in."

This didn't make any sense. The world had literally flipped upside down. Roy took another shaky breath—it was times like this when he really needed Lieutenant Hawkeye around. Her bluntness generally helped his anxiety wind down. "This is ridiculous. I should be the one comforting you right now—how are you so calm about this?"

"I'm not," Al admitted softly. "I'm just…bottling it up, I guess. I'm scared, but at the same time…at the beginning of all this, the doctor said that the first antibiotic might not even work. And Ed made it two weeks on that. This is a bump in the proceedings, but it just makes sense to me that if he made it this far he'll be okay again once they find another medicine that works."

That was logical. Roy could hold onto that. A minute or so later and he was feeling much more himself—still guilty and worried as hell, but more composed at least. "Thanks, I needed that. Sorry to, ah, flip out there," he muttered, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Nah, it's nothing," Alphonse replied, waving away the gratitude. "I'm surprised, though. I mean I know you _worry_ , but like…why so much, if you don't mind me asking?"

Hmm. Somehow "I've kinda got the hots for your brother and since Winry's a no-go I intend to be the rebound" _didn't_ seem like the thing to say in this situation. Realistically, that wasn't even an entirely correct statement. If Roy was being honest and fair with himself, he wanted a little more than that, but with Edward's current condition and his possible role in it he was in no mood to be gentle on himself. Still, he couldn't say that out loud. Instead Roy went with, "Ed's growing on me." Short, sweet, and not at all a lie.

"Uh huh." Al, however, was just as smart as his brother, and didn't seem convinced by such a bland explanation. But unlike Ed, Alphonse wasn't one to push in this sort of situation, so he didn't pursue the topic further, jumping to more important matters. "So do you think you're okay enough to see him? I mean I know he's sleeping but I'd still like to be able to see how he is, I can't stand just being out here. I can go alone though, if you'd rather wait here…?"

"No, no, I'll come," Roy replied hastily, standing up. "I'll be fine." And just to prove it, he led the way through the door into the quarantine center.

It was much busier than they had become accustomed to. Several nurses and doctors were clustered by the monitors, examining Ed's stats and conferring quietly. In the cube itself, Edward was alone, but crowded by extra IV's.

Roy's footsteps became heavier as they drew closer, and Al slowed as well; as much as he was trying to keep his distress from showing, Alphonse wasn't the best at hiding his emotons. Edward was bundled up in blankets and still shivering. He slept, but not peacefully—though his body was so tightly wrapped he was essentially immobile, Ed's head whipped from side to side restlessly. His face was red and a sheen of sweat shone on his forehead.

"Sweating," Al murmured, his voice shaking a little. "That's good, right?"

"Yeah," Roy confirmed, quick to jump on any positive note. "Yeah, it means his body's fighting off the fever. If he's sweating, it means the fever is at least trying to break. If he wasn't…it'd be bad."

Seeing that did, oddly, make Roy feel better. It made it easier to believe in Alphonse's conviction that another medicine would restore Edward to health. Yet at the same time, his heart just _lurched_ , seeing Ed so distressed. Whether or not it was right of him to pursue the older Elric brother at this time, Roy felt so _wrong_ being on this side of the glass. If his aim was to end up dating Ed, he should _definitely_ be in there patting a wet cloth on Edward's head and telling him everything would be okay. Not being able to do so left him rather achy inside.

Roy stepped forward the last few steps necessary and leaned against the glass. Alphonse stayed back, and Roy had a feeling he was taking advantage of the slight distance between them to let one or two nervous tears leak out. It had to be hard for Al. Sure, Roy _liked_ Ed, but he and Alphonse had been each other's support for _years_. With that kind of bond…it was a wonder to him that Al was functioning as well as he was.

Like a wordless agreement, both men moved to sit down in the chairs available. They were, obviously, settling in for the long haul. Roy had no intention of leaving until he was satisfied that Edward would be fine, and he doubted Al did either.

* * *

Ed was more than a little confused when he woke up. He could hardly move his arms, and he didn't really remember anything after saying goodbye to Roy…was it yesterday? It felt like he might be moving through water rather than air. It could have been a week ago for all he knew. It almost looked like it, with the number of instruments they'd packed back around him. Plus he was cold. And clammy. Ugh.

Blinking sleep from his eyes, Edward noticed the two figures slumped against each other outside the walls of his cube. And while waking up feeling this _off_ was nerve wracking enough, realizing that Al and Roy had fallen asleep here scared him even more. Whatever had happened to him must have been _bad._ "Hey!" he rasped, coughing to clear his voice. One positive: as bad as he felt, he didn't have that sore throat back. When neither of them stirred, Ed tried again. "Guys!"

They both jolted upright at that, eyes widening when they realized he was the one shouting. Both Alphonse and Roy jumped up, letting out gleeful exclamations, and Roy almost tripped on his own boots trying to get up to the glass.

"Brother! You're awake!"

"Thank _God_ …!"

"Jeez," Ed wheezed, trying to keep them in his range of vision without having to sit up. Along with everything else, he was tired, like he'd just run a marathon or kicked someone's ass. "Was it that bad, that you'd be thanking some nonexistent shit? What _happened_?"

"The medicine stopped working," Al explained. He put his hands over his mouth for a moment, overwhelmed. "Sorry, I was just so _worried…_ Your fever spiked like you wouldn't believe. It took all day for this other antibiotic to kick in and bring it back down. We were just about to go to let you rest now that we knew you were more stable…"

"Holy shit," Ed rasped. "'All day?' What time is it?"

"Midnight," Roy answered faintly. The older man looked like he might pass out from shock and relief. "I had to call in some favors to get them to let us stay this long, but we were so scared…" No kidding. Alphonse seemed exhausted but happy now that Edward was at least awake and talking, but the Colonel's still looked like he'd been hit with a bus.

"You okay?" he queried gently, tilting his head to the side.

The other man tried to deflect the question. "You're the one who still has a slight fever and is stuck in quarantine. You shouldn't be worried about whether I'm okay."

Well, that was true, but it was in Ed's nature to worry about other people. Obviously he wasn't getting a straight answer form the Coloenl, so Edward turned to his brother. "Al?"

"Actually, he had a panic attack in the waiting room," Alphonse admitted. A sly grin quirked at the side of his mouth, and he added, "We've both been worried, Brother, but Roy says you've been growing on him and that's why he's been so out of sorts."

It was a good thing Ed had a fever, or else his blush might have been noticeable. Yeah, he supposed the flirting from before could be called that. Still, that was kind of a lame excuse for having an honest panic attack over a high temperature. "That's no reason to freak out though."

Al shrugged, and Roy finally felt the need to step in and explain himself a little more. "I, ah, thought you might have overexerted yourself, Ed," he mumbled, looking at the ground. Oh. Edward understood in an instant. Roy had been blaming himself this whole time! He probably thought that since he'd discovered a way for them to sit a little closer, he'd made Ed sicker. It's what Ed would be worrying about, were the tables turned. Still…why not just explain that outright?

His brother was apparently wondering the same thing. Alphonse looked back and forth between them, slowly crossing his arms. "I'm missing something. And I'm _not_ sure I like that. Since when do you two have secrets together?"

As much as he preferred to share things with Al, Edward thought in this case it was better to confer with Roy first. Especially considering he wasn't sure why it was supposed to be a secret…or at least, all of it. They could tell Al about sitting closer without having to talk about exactly what was said…but if Roy wasn't going to, Ed would behave and follow along. For now. So instead of explaining anything at all, he teased, "That's what happens when you leave me to plan a party!"

"Brother—"

"Al, maybe we should go," Roy interrupted. "It is really late…"

Uh oh. Ed shut his mouth tight, waiting for the shits storm to start. Alphonse uncrossed his arms, planting his hands on his hips and stepping forward so that he was thoroughly in Roy's space. And not like Edward himself had been. This was more violent.

"You are _not_ trying to pull that on me are you?" Al said, a hint of a threat in his voice. "You can't use such a lame excuse just because you two are hiding something from me!" He turned to Ed, who gulped. "And _you_! What has you more eager to cover the Colonel's ass than talk to your brother?"

"It's not like that, Al," Edward corrected hurriedly. "I'm not trying to keep anything from you, I just…I don't understand the situation myself actually. I want to talk to Roy before I say anything because I don't want to tell you something and have it be incorrect."

His brother snorted. "You mean you need time to get your story straight." Seemingly despite himself curiosity leaked into Alphonse's voice. "Jeez, you must have _really_ gotten into something while I was gone."

"Err…yeah, I guess you could say that." Ed was definitely blushing now, and even if that weren't noticeable, his heart monitor gave his embarrassment away. "And I promise I'll tell you every excruciating detail as soon as it makes sense to me, okay?"

" _Fine_ ," Alphonse pouted, finally giving in. "But neither of you are in my good books until you I get the story."

"Okay, okay," Ed agreed, laughing lightly. "Now that that's settled, you really should go. You both need your sleep. I'll see you tomorrow, guys."

"Actually, we won't be back until the day after. To give you some rest," Al corrected. "That's okay, right?"

Normally, Edward would have complained that he wasn't getting the attention he deserved, but he was actually having trouble keeping his eyes open. Perhaps a day to sleep would be good for him. "Yeah, that's fine. I'm no fun like this anyway."

"Okay, as long as you're sure. Goodnight, Brother!" Al waved, beginning to walk towards the door. Roy, however, lingered, just watching him. To Ed it seemed as though the other man were drinking in the sight of him relatively healthy. "Oh, no!" Alphonse shouted, realizing he was alone. He stomped back, pushing Roy ahead of him towards the exit. "I missed _one day_ and _something_ went down, and I'm not giving you the chance to make that happen again! I don't like being out of the loop like this."

Chuckling, Ed watched as the duo exited the room. Sure, a day to sleep would be good, but a day to sort everything out would be better.


	11. Chapter 11

Though there were no clocks in or around his cube (which was a damn nuisance), Ed could _feel_ that he had woken up late. Usually, when he sat up in the mornings, it was almost like déjà vu in a sense; his internal clock had made him stir at the same time as it had yesterday, and the day before that, and so on and so forth. But today, even before opening his eyes, Edward could tell that he was late. Which was fine; after his fever flare-up, he probably needed the extra rest, but still. Lost time. Of course, his whole stay in quarantine was lost time, so that was kind of a moot point.

Pulling his arms out of their blanket prison, Ed stretched, groaning in appreciation as his muscles loosened. However, his slow waking was interrupted by a voice from outside.

"Good, you're finally awake."

Edward's eyes flew open, the unexpected sound sending him into instant panic mode. That was how working for the military had trained him to react; when something was unexpected and you were in a weak situation (i.e. sick and sleepy), tense up and get ready…just in case. But it was only Roy. The man was sitting with his legs crossed in one of the chairs, newspaper unfolded on his lap. It took a few moments for Ed's brain to give meaning to the sight, and once it did, all he could do was blurt out, "What happened to giving me a day to rest?"

Roy smiled cheekily, creasing his paper down the middle and stowing it under his chair. "I lied. Mostly because I couldn't get Alphonse out of my hair unless he thought I'd be staying away like he is today. Although, to be fair, I did let you sleep as long as you needed to. It's not like I'm interrupting or anything. It's almost noon."

A grin tugged unbidden at the corner's of Edward's mouth. Truth be told, the sight of the Colonel waiting there for him to wake up sparked a deep-rooted, warm joy inside of him. However, that didn't mean he didn't need to set one thing straight. Ed sat up, pointing at Roy in a rather lecture-y manner. "Hey, don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're here…but I don't like you lying to Al. I don't like _anyone_ lying to Al. Really, he's so sweet all the time it ought to be a crime to do that to him."

"It wasn't like I _wanted_ to—how else was I supposed to get you alone to talk? He's not about to let you and I out of his sight," Roy pointed out, his smiled widening brilliantly towards the end of his response.

That was true. "I guess you're right—so let's talk. Mainly I just don't get why you didn't explain to Al why you were worried," Ed began. "Now he's pissed at _both_ of us, and I'm not sure why or what I'm hiding."

The other man's grin vanished, to be replaced with a sheepish expression. Roy even looked away, which Edward only then realized was strange. Now, without that dark gaze steady and centered on him, Ed noticed how used to Roy staring at him he'd gotten. Huh. Roy took a breath, and let it out in a huff, before starting awkwardly, "I, uh…I didn't want to tell him about…well…"

"Spit it out!" Ed interrupted the Colonel's rambling, somewhat exasperated.

"I didn't want him to know you could sit down and be closer to us, okay?" Roy half-shouted back, his cheeks turning a vibrant pink.

Maybe Edward was just slow today. From his condition declining a little, or from him having woken up about three minutes ago. But it took him several seconds yet again to compute what was happening. " _Why?_ " he finally asked, shaking his head in confusion.

"It's selfish of me," Roy sighed, still refusing to meet Ed's eyes. "I know that, but I just…it felt nice, to be there with you like that. Like we…bonded, or whatever. And I _know_ Al's your brother, and I _know_ that means I'm an asshole for not telling him so he could be close to you too, but I—I wanted it to be special. Between us."

Now it was Edward's turn to look away. He was tingly all over, like his body was trying to shiver and flush at the same time. It was like warm little pinpricks, a more pleasant version of when your foot falls asleep. _Roy wanted to keep something just for them. Together_. He wanted to keep the smile off his face, but he couldn't help it. "That sort of implies that we have a bit of a connection, you know."

Though he still didn't look up, Ed was ninety nine percent certain Roy was rolling his eyes. "I'm well aware of the implications of my statement, yes."

"So what are you hoping to get out of that?" An important question. Saying they had a "connection" was still pretty vague and didn't really clear Ed up on the situation. Heart hammering in his chest, Edward finally dared to look up. Roy was once again staring at him, his face sill a little pinker than normal, with a surprisingly... _vulnerable_ tinge in his eyes.

That was quickly snuffed out as the older man replied nonchalantly, "Some intelligent conversation for once, I hope."

Ed was well aware that Roy was using humor to deflect the question. It was a diversion tactic he himself was quite fond up. Even so, understanding it didn't help him and his naturally sassy nature to avoid the trap. "Like any conversation you're involved in could be considered intelligent," Edward goaded, flashing his teeth.

"Well, at the very least, I'm hoping to infiltrate far enough to train you out of those snappy responses," Roy retorted smoothly. In his zone once more. "You could be like Al, just as kind as can be, instead of all prickly."

A snort escaped him. "Please. Al seems sweet until you get on his bad side—then _I_ seem like the perfect one. Speaking of which," Ed added, bringing seriousness crashing back into the conversation. "He's going to want an explanation tomorrow. What are we going to tell him?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Edward was conscious of the fact that the question was shoving him further into cahoots with Roy. Oops.

"Hmm…I was hoping you would have some bright idea, to be honest." Roy leaned back in his chair. "Seeing as you're so good at making up excuses. I seem to remember a few missions you wormed your way out of responsibility with…"

Ed groaned loudly. "I had better things to do. Besides, you weren't the king of getting your work done either, Mr. Sleeping-in-the-closet. Point being, I don't know what to tell him. I don't want to lie anymore, but…" _But I still don't know where we stand and what's happening here. I still don't understand why you're so attentive and why it makes me so excited._

Obviously, Edward didn't say any of that aloud.

Roy, for his part was doing some serious thinking. Which was rather attractive and didn't help Ed at all. They'd been flirting. Roy was hot. So what? Edward had just broken up with his fiancée. He was still upset about it. Having some fun and thinking someone was eye candy wasn't wrong. And that would be all Roy could possibly want, anyway, judging from his reputation. So maybe that was all that was going on and everything was actually fine.

"We could tell him that we had a serious discussion and I was afraid it might have been too much for you," Roy suggested, breaking Ed's steadily deteriorating train of thought. "That's not a lie, as we did talk about some…things…or at least—"

"We flirted," Edward suggested bluntly, surprised by his own brazenness. Well, maybe being upfront would get Roy to follow suit and everything would be less fuzzy.

"Yeah, that," the Colonel agreed, smiling lightly. "That's serious in a way. It's not a lie, it's just not…everything."

"So you get to keep your secret spot with me," Ed teased. "That's fine."

However, rather than the positive response he had anticipated, that statement made the older man frown. "I'm not sure I really get to keep it—that might have been what made you sick again."

"I doubt it," Edward countered. He shocked himself again with just how much he suddenly wanted to be that near to Roy again; how desperate he was to convince the other man that it was safe. "I mean, with an unfit person, maybe that could have triggered another wave. But—not to brag—I'm crazy active. I still train, even though I'm not in the military anymore. Getting up and sitting back down all of one time wouldn't be enough to set me off again."

Despite this logic, Roy was still hesitant. "I don't want to see you like that again. You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Does that make you concerned for me or for yourself?" Ed joked.

"What's the difference?"

Though it (shockingly) remained steady, Edward's heartbeat seemed loud in his ears. Same with his breathing, a heaving in-out, in-out rhythm. Even his blood was audible, rushing straight up through his body to pool in his cheeks. Such a loaded comment, such a _sweet_ comment—it had caught him off guard. "I wonder," Ed murmured quietly, after an eternal moment, "what we would be doing now if I hadn't gotten sick."

"I'd still be out west, restoring Ishval," Roy responded at equal volume. He seemed to have said a little more than he had intended to. "You'd maybe still be in Xing. Or you would have come back. I think, not necessarily immediately, but eventually you and Winry still would have split up. Then you'd travel some more, or move to Xing to be with Al. And I'd still be in Ishval. Unless you stopped by to see me—or anyone there, I suppose—I doubt we would have crossed paths again."

The scenario made sense. It was interesting, how quickly Ed was repulsed by it. "I can't believe I never came to see you and the rest of the team, honestly."

Roy shrugged. "I can. We remind you of a bad time in the past. You wouldn't want to relive it."

"No," Edward disagreed. "You actually remind me of _good_ times. I mean, obviously everything that was happening around us was awful. But you pulled me and Al out of the darkest point in our lives, and gave us hope and a purpose again. No matter how irritating you were as my superior, I never forgot that. It was like you gave us a new family. Not to replace our old one, obviously, but just to give us somewhere we belonged and mattered again. Somewhere we were something other than just the fuck ups that were arrogant enough to think we could do what no one else could. I should have visited."

"Well, it's not like it's too late," the other man responded, addressing the steadily increasing regret in Ed's voice. "You can come back with me once you're better, if you want. They'd all love to see you again. Of course," he added hastily, "you don't have to, I just mean the option is there."

"Yeah." Edward's first affirmative was automatic, but the more he thought about it, the more that seemed to be the way to go. After all, it wasn't like he would be going back to Winry anymore after he was released, and that cut Pinako out for the time being as well. And he _certainly_ wasn't going to be keen on heading to Xing with Al after this fiasco. Sure, he could always pick up where he left off and give in to wanderlust, but that was genuinely less appealing than taking at least a few months to cool off and visit with old friends. "Yeah, that sounds nice. It's not like I have anywhere else to go, anyway."

"Ed." If he hadn't seen Roy's lips move, Edward wouldn't believe it was him who spoke, so tender was the voice. He raised his head, eyes meeting the Colonel's and they were just so _gentle_. It was like Roy was holding him tight with a single look. "There are people who love you scattered all over this country. Even people you barely interact with, you touch, not to mention those of us who know you better. You will always have a place to go."

It was an offer, more bold and yet more subtle than his last. "A place with you?" Ed asked, almost whispering. If he was somehow wrong, if he was misreading the man before him, it would be awkward to say the least.

"If that's what you think would make you happy."

Happy? Edward was, most inappropriately considering his recent circumstances, ecstatic. Fireworks were going off inside his stomach, making him feel like he was floating upwards. He tried to calm himself. One, he shouldn't feel this way, and two, Roy said a place to _go_. Not a home, necessarily. He was getting carried away. "I think I'll visit first, see how long I last down there," Ed teased.

"That might be smart," Roy shot back. It was amazing and a little gross how flawlessly they traveled between heartfelt conversation and snide ribbing. "You've gone soft these past few years, you might not be able to take it anymore."

Despite himself, Edward laughed, and the motion rather reminded him of something else. "Hey, Roy?"

"Hmm?"

"You know that thing, where when you wake up you tend to have to pee?" Ed said. It was his attempt to be delicate. If Roy didn't pick up on it, he'd have to be a little more up front.

"Yeah?"

Okay. Up front it was. "Well I'm about five seconds away from using this bedpan and I'd really rather you not be in the room."

The man before him seemed stunned. He quickly shook it off, though—quite literally. Roy rose from his seat, pushing his hair back from his face as he turned and shook his head. And as he was walking away, Edward _just_ heard the faintest of exasperated mutters. A mutter that had him blushing from head to toe.

"A bedpan. I'm romancing him and he's on a fucking _bedpan_."


	12. Chapter 12

When Alphonse marched into the quarantine center the next morning, an appropriately sheepish Roy in tow, he didn't say a word; he just _stood_ there, arms crossed and a single eyebrow arched. When Al was silent like this, you knew you were in the shithouse. So Ed got to trotting out his pre-prepared explanation right quick.

"I know, Al, I'll tell you everything if you stop glaring like that," Edward said hastily, raising his hands in defense. His brother deigned to unclench his hands, which Ed supposed was as good as it was going to get. He went on, "The day before my fever spiked, when you'd been gone—me and Roy had a, ah, serious discussion. He was just really worried about whether that could have agitated me enough to have caused me to get sicker, that's all."

"Funny," Alphonse replied icily. Behind him, Roy actually shivered. "Because that's almost exactly what Roy here told me when I confronted him in the waiting room. Almost like you two _rehearsed it_."

Now, it wasn't in Al's nature to be angry for too long. Pretty much as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Alphonse's face loosened, morphing from angry glower to the sort of melting, brokenhearted look a kid gets when they drop their ice cream. "Why would you do that? And don't try to lie to me again," he added, turning to address Roy specifically. "Remember that nurse you seduced into letting you in here? Well, she's a little mad that you never paid up and let slip that you were visiting yesterday."

Roy had the good graces to look guilty. "Look, Al, I'm sorry. Don't be mad at Ed. I'm the one who got him to lie to you, and talk to me first; everything. I just—the situation is a little—I don't know how much Edward is okay with me saying!" he finally exploded, frustration leaking out of him like a tangible substance. "I don't even know what _I'm_ okay with saying—"

"Stop," Ed interrupted quietly. Both heads turned to look at him, and he shifted uncomfortably. Just because he'd decided he needed to take control of the situation didn't mean he wanted to. "Roy, you know I appreciated our talk yesterday—" Edward fervently hoped the older man realized that meant he would honor his wish _not_ to talk about them mushing foreheads on the glass; it wasn't like he was eager to share that particular detail with his brother anyway—"But I think I should talk to Al alone."

There was a gently tense moment (if such a thing were possible) while Roy searched Ed's eyes, trying to figure out what was going to happen. Finally, the older man turned away, simply stating, "Do whatever you think is best," before walking back out the door he had just recently entered.

With the source of his suspicion safely out of the room, Al sank into a chair. "Finally. I hope you're going to give it to me straight, because I'm really not used to this kind of strain anymore and I _don't_ like it."

Snorting, Edward flicked his hair out of his face. "I'll give it to you as straight as I can, but I still…don't fully understand everything myself." It took all of two seconds for Ed's confidence to fall. This whatever it was that was happening with Roy was _nuts_. Definitely crazy, definitely weird, probably wrong, too. How was he even supposed to begin to explain it to Al?

Ed decided to go for to the point. He raised a hand, rubbing his reddening cheek as he muttered, "Roy's been…flirting with me."

"Yes."

Several moments passed, in which Edward gaped and Alphonse sat expectantly, apparently waiting for more. All Ed could do (once he finally dragged his jaw up into its proper position), was stammer out a weak, "What?"

Rolling his eyes, Al actually let out a little chuckle. "Please. That's it? Roy's been flirting with you since he set foot in this room. Are you just noticing this now? I thought telling everyone in Ishval that he wasn't going to leave your side was a pretty big hint, Brother."

At this point, Ed estimated his face must be somewhere between crimson and brick red. It wasn't like he hadn't been able to tell that the older man was being friendlier than normal this whole time, but hearing it spelled out like that made it more obvious that Roy had been _hitting on him_. "I mean, I could tell, but…but I'm, ah…flirting back?" This last bit was phrased as a question, almost like Edward was asking permission. Or forgiveness. Most likely the latter.

"Oh." Al's brow furrowed. "And that's the big deal? You two were flirting, and didn't want to talk about it? But then why was Roy so messed up when you had a fever again?"

Edward thought this might be the most embarrassed he'd ever been. He couldn't even look his brother in the eye as he admitted, "Well, he managed to get my heart rate up quite a bit…" _And not a soul on Earth would ever know exactly how,_ Ed added silently. "He thought that might have screwed me up."

The sound of Al's laugh had, when they were kids, always been one of Edward's favorite sounds. At certain times, it sounded somewhat like tinkling bells, but heartier. Since getting his body back, Alphonse's laughter became music to his ears once more, so much so that even in this situation he could take a minute to appreciate the sound. "That's so cute," he gushed. "Roy's really got quite the effect on you, huh? Jeez, if you'd just come out and said that I wouldn't have been mad."

"Really?" Ed asked, surprised. "I thought you'd be upset. I mean…I am," he confessed. "I shouldn't feel this way about him. Not after I just broke up with Winry. That's…shitty of me."

"But it's not your fault," Alphonse protested strongly, in a much better mood now that he'd been filled in on everything. Nothing like Elric brother mood swings. "There were a few times when I was surprised by what you said to him. I think you've maybe been falling for Roy way before you and Winry broke it off. You already said that your relationship with her had been dying for a while, so it makes sense that even before it was 'official,' your emotions would have moved on."

That didn't _really_ make Ed feel any better—in actuality, it just made him feel like he'd been even worse to Winry than he'd thought. But having just stopped an argument with Al, he wasn't keen to get into another. "I guess."

And Alphonse, being so wrapped up in his bubble of giddiness at this new development, didn't even notice Edward's hesitation. It was understandable; after all, he was _literally_ bouncing in his seat with excitement. "Okay but you have _got_ to give me some details. What exactly happened? What's he said? What have _you_ said?"

As anyone could probably tell you, happiness is infectious. Even when you're at your most melancholy, if someone cracks a joke and you laugh, the mood lightens. So Ed smiled lightly, and decided to share a snippet of his and Roy's conversation from the day before. "He said he was _romancing_ me."

"Oh. My. _Gosh_." For being an adult male, Al sure sounded like a squeaky, overexcited teenage female. "He called it ' _romancing_?' That's…weirdly cute. It's like he's some daring hero trying to win your favor."

Ed groaned aloud, throwing his head back and yet fighting a smile all the same. "For goodness' sake, Al, he's not some fairytale character, he's mainly an asshole. Albeit one who's being really, _really_ sweet to me," he added in an undertone, face coloring once more. Edward went on in somewhat of a rush, wanting to get this out before his brother managed to keep cooing over Roy's word choice. "He also…offered me something."

Of course, Alphonse then chose this moment to cease his girly routine and morph into the physical embodiment of parental concern. "It wasn't sex, was it? Because even if he says he's romancing you, if he asks for that he's nothing but a—"

"No!" Ed shouted, covering his face in sheer embarrassment. Of _all_ the things Al could have thought of, he had to jump straight to that. "I'm _quarantined_ ; he knows he's not getting anything out of me for a while."

"A while, eh?"

The crafty little shit! Edward quietly resolved to look into who all Alphonse was spending his time with in Xing, because clearly someone had been corrupting his little brother. It wasn't as though Ed hadn't contributed at least a smidge to that cause, but he'd never taught Al to be so underhanded. "That's not what I meant!" he yelped aloud, vaguely considering the merits of pulling his covers up over his head so as to avoid the conversation. Instead, Ed decided to do the mature thing and simply bring everything back to what he'd been trying to say in the first place. "Will you just let me get this out? He offered me a place to stay!"

 _That_ sure shut his brother up. Al's eyes widened almost comically. "Wait…what do you mean exactly?"

"Like, after I get out," Ed explained, glancing downward again. His hands were absentmindedly toying with the sheet that covered him, wrinkling it. "He told me if I wanted to, I could go and live with him. For a while, at least, I'm not sure how long he was going for honestly."

"Brother, that's…that's _astronomical_ ," Alphonse breathed. He jumped out of his chair, bringing a hand up to rub his (as always) immaculately shaven chin as he paced the floor just in front of the cube. "That's a really big step. A really _weird_ step. Shouldn't you two officially be in a relationship before he asks you to move in? What on Earth did you _say_?"

"I told him I'd come down to visit everyone and see how I felt then," Ed replied. But because he'd been dishonest enough with his younger brother lately, he continued sheepishly, "That was sort of a joke though. I kind of implied I'd be more than happy to accept the offer."

"So you _really_ like him, huh?"

It took Edward a long while to consider that. The answer was easy enough, physically. Roy was drop-dead gorgeous, and Ed had stopped trying to deny that a long time ago. But what about everything else? Roy was loyal, and strong (emotionally speaking), and brave, and witty, with just the right amount of irritating thrown in. It was all too easy to imagine living in the same house as the older man; Roy would always wake up first, for work, but he'd also be the one Edward had to check in on while he was napping in the afternoons. Ed would be the one who cleans, but Roy would somehow miraculously always find time to cook for the both of them. Laundry would be the chore they would fight over, with Roy saying it was a part of the cleaning and Edward insisting that he wasn't going to wash Roy's uniform like some well-trained military wife.

Maybe all that added up to Ed _really liking him_. But that wasn't the point. The point was, Edward had no right to feel so strongly about _anyone_ at the moment. There hadn't been enough time in between now and when he and Winry had split for these kinds of feelings to develop. Which meant they must have been festering in him, dormant, for a while now. And that scared him, and made him feel like shit.

"Yeah," he finally answered, voice hardly higher than a whisper. "I do really like him. But I…I feel like I owe it to Winry to at least pretend I'm not a huge scumbag and _wait_. I can't jump straight out of bed with her _into_ bed with Roy—metaphorically speaking."

Normally, brothers (or any siblings for that matter) can be close. They could even be each other's best friends. But sometimes Ed thought that the trauma they'd endured together had given him and Al a deeper connection, almost like that found in twins. This was one such time. He _swore_ he could see (or maybe it was just feeling), Alphonse's thought process. His brother opened his mouth to protest—undoubtedly Al was going to say that he was wrong, that he was a good person. But then he second guessed that knee-jerk reaction and closed his gaping mouth. Edward knew verbatim what his brother was thinking: _He's not going to listen to me anyway_. So instead, he thought an extra second or two, and then shook his head, simply saying, "That's something for you to work out with Roy. It's not my place to judge whether this relationship is right or wrong."

"It's not a relationship," Ed muttered moodily.

"Right," Alphonse laughed. "Not yet, maybe. I'm guessing it won't be long. More to the point, I don't think it'll help if I'm in the room every time you two have a conversation. It's kind of hard for him to _romance_ you if he's got an audience, yeah?"

"But you can't leave!" Edward protested. Somewhat shrilly, if truth be told. It was merited, though; Al was being ridiculous. He couldn't just stop visiting when Ed was stuck in a cube because of some stupid Xingese disease.

"I don't mean I'm _leaving_. You really think my heart could take that, Brother? No, I intend to stay by your side as much as possible." Al shook his head, and his expression could only be called the " _my brother is an idiot"_ face. "I was going to suggest that me and Roy start alternating days. That way he gets time alone with you without my pesky meddling, and I get time to worry about your health instead of your relationship status. Although," he added as an afterthought, "I can't say I would mind a little bit of the latter as well. I do like to stay updated."

"Oh." Ed promptly fell back against his pillows, feeling just like the moron Alphonse seemed to be judging him to be. Obviously Al wouldn't leave him. He was just paranoid, apparently. "I…guess that would work. I mean, I enjoy seeing the both of you together, but I get what you're saying about it being awkward."

As soon as the agreement passed his lips, Alphonse jumped up. "Excellent," he declared, a little too cheerily. And that smile was awfully suspicious as well. "I'll go grab Roy so you can tell him about the new arrangement. I guess I'll let you have a few minutes to say goodbye, because today is _my_ day."

Something was afoot, and Edward had no doubt he would shortly find out what. And he was right. Al walked up to the door to the waiting room, opened it, and presumably explained to Roy that it was his turn. For now, at any rate. But then, as Roy's figure appeared in the door, Alphonse finished with enough volume for Ed to clearly hear, "Oh, and by the way, that whole 'Let's lie to Al' thing has got to stop. I need to be able to trust you if you're ever going to be my brother in law."


	13. Chapter 13

Edward Elric was a conversationalist. He loved talking to people, any people—there was so much you could learn about an individual in just a few minutes, and those tiny connections were so exciting to him. Being quiet didn't come naturally to him, and any time he wasn't talkative, you could be sure something was either very wrong or very serious.

Today was one of those days. Ed sat on his bed, and fidgeted, and answered Roy's questions (it was the Colonel's day today) in minute sentences, or single syllables. He didn't mean to, but he was distracted and nervous, because he couldn't just have any old conversation today, he had to bring something unpleasant up and _fuck_ was he putting it off as much as he could.

It was obvious that Roy could tell something was up. He'd asked Edward if he was alright a few times, but having gotten no information, Roy had now lapsed into silence. Boy, did Ed hate that silence. It wasn't the comfortable absence of speaking that comes after a long, satisfying meal, or an intimate moment. It was tense, and questioning, and broken only by the sipping sounds of Roy drinking his coffee, as per usual.

Eventually, Edward couldn't take it anymore. But he still didn't want to broach…the subject. So his stupid mouth just blurted, "Could you…get on the floor?"

Roy's eyebrows rose so high they disappeared into his bangs. He blinked several times, coffee cup held in limbo halfway between his lap and his mouth at a rather precarious angle. "Ed, as excited as I am to be allowed to be alone with you sans chaperone, I'm not sure what you plan to get out of—"

Behind his glass walls, Edward rolled his eyes, gesturing to his right. "You idiot, I mean over here. I want to talk to you."

It took a second, but then understanding lit up the older man's eyes. That's not to say he was approving. "No way, no how. The last time I did that, I came back the next day to find you unconscious. Don't get me wrong, I _want_ to, but I'm not going to risk your health for my enjoyment."

Ed stared dispassionately at Roy as he spoke, twirling a strand of hair around one finger. He'd figured that would be the answer, but wasn't prone to giving up that easily—especially now that he'd finally gained some traction. Who knew how long that would last, how long before he clammed up with _I don't want to do this_ again. "I'll be fine this time. We had this discussion earlier, remember? That was a coincidence, sitting with you had nothing to do with me getting sick."

"Even so."

"What do I have to do to get you to do it?" Edward asked bluntly. "Just say the word."

He'd prepared himself for the worst, thinking Roy would ask for a blackmail-worthy story, or for Edward to flash him at least. But instead the Colonel set his cup gently down on the ground beside his chair and stood up, brushing the wrinkles out of his button down. "Is it really that important to you?"

" _Yes_ ," Ed replied, voice thick with earnestness. Was it really going to be that easy? Roy had turned into a bit of a push over. For him. The thought had him biting back a smile.

"Fine, then." Without further ado, the older man walked around to the other side of the cube, lowering himself to the floor with a tiny grunt. He glanced up at Edward, answering his unspoken question. "What could you do for me from in there? I can't ask to braid your hair, or even just get a hug. I mean, I suppose you could address me as 'Daddy…'"

Edward, who had begun the process of maneuvering his equipment so that he could match Roy's cross-legged position on the ground, choked. "You want me to call you _'Daddy_!?'"

"Shit, no," Roy sniggered, a crooked grin on his face. "I just wanted to see how you'd react."

Mumbling under his breath, Ed pulled his IV around to the correct side of the bed, kneeling on one knee once it was in place. From there, he ever so cautiously tucked first one foot under him, and then the other, careful not to hook any wires or tubes with his toes—and careful to be sure he was fully covered. Once settled, Edward breathed easier, drawing some base form of comfort from being so close to Roy. Which wasn't a good sign, considering what he was down there to say.

But that could wait for a moment. Ed looked up, searching Roy's eyes for truth as he asked, "Aside from that, is that _really_ what you'd ask for? Just…to touch me?"

The Colonel shrugged helplessly. It was almost impossible to tell, and maybe it was just a trick of the light, but Edward thought maybe the other man's pupils had dilated a bit. "It's all I want."

Ed's heart leaped in his chest, soaring upwards and then crashing back down. Damned if that didn't mean the world to him, but it made what he had to do even harder. It was suddenly impossible to look Roy in the eye. Edward scanned the room, trying to find something else to focus on. But it was an empty room, nothing but a bunch of wires and screens and those damned fruit drinks (he was past tired of them at this point) to be seen. Inevitably, Ed's gaze settled back on Roy.

"We can't," he blurted out. Like ripping a band aid off, maybe that was the best way, although Edward hadn't consciously made that decision.

It appeared not to matter, though. Roy didn't get it, he didn't understand. "Can't what?"

So, no band aid then. It would have to be slow and steady and painful. A lump formed in his throat that had nothing at all to do with being sick as a dog. "Us. This flirting back and forth, it's got to stop. All of it. I don't know what your intentions are with all that, honestly…but no matter what, this is it. You can't tease me like that, if it's just for kicks, because it's driving me nuts. And if you're serious…shit, that makes me crazier." The words were just bubbling out of him now, a hot spring of disappointment. Ninety nine percent of it was nonsensical, he was sure. Ed was blubbering. "I can't stop thinking about it. But we can't have a relationship, that's really the bottom line. We used to work together, and now I suppose we could be friends, but that's the end game."

Roy's face crumpled as Edward spoke, making the man look ten years older. It was painful to see, the wrinkles that formed in his forehead and in the corners of his eyes, and most deeply in the frown that was his mouth. "Why?" he whispered. "I thought—I thought it was going well."

"It is." Ed dropped his eyes to his lap. He had to do this…right? Being eaten alive by guilt was far worse than suffering from being alone. "That's the problem. Every time I talk to you, I like you more. But I can't."

"Why _not_?" Roy demanded, face growing hot. "It's not that I'm a man, and you're not the type to be fussy over an age gap. There's nothing _wrong_ with me—"

"It's not _you_!" Edward interrupted. He looked up again, eyes hollow. "It's _anyone_. How could I possibly be falling for someone else when, what, a week ago me and my fiancée called it quits? It's _sick_ of me to move on so quickly. I guess I'm just an unfeeling bastard, but if I can't help my thoughts, I can still be decent enough to stop myself from acting on them."

"Well, if you're a sick bastard, what the _hell_ does that make me?" Roy countered angrily, waving his arms about. "I'm the one putting the moves on you—hell, I started that the second you confessed to being a little less than straight. And once you weren't taken, I _pounced_. By your logic—and mine too, don't think I don't feel like the biggest asshole in the world for being so selfish with you—I'm an opportunistic twat. But you know what, I got over it. And you want to know why?"

"I'm sure you'll tell me." Ed didn't mean to be quite that snappy, but the Colonel was making him mad. Why, oh _why_ couldn't he just let Edward wallow in self-disgust for a while and call it quits?

"Because I fucking _like_ you," Roy hissed, eyes flashing. "And everyone and their mothers know I've _liked_ half the population of Central at some point or another, but for some reason you've stuck in my head like very few people ever have. I don't just want some quick fling with you. I think—I think maybe we have the chance at something _real_ , something _good_ , and I decided maybe that merited me being a little too eager."

Edward didn't know what to say. Somehow, without him realizing it, the idea of Roy aiming for a cheap roll in the hay had taken root in his mind and become the basis for his rationalization that it wouldn't be so bad to lose that. Without that foundation, Ed didn't _want_ to fight anymore. He felt like just giving in and saying yes and taking all that Roy had to give. He felt like being happy, and yet he still couldn't quite say that out loud. His mouth was more moral than his mind. "I just can't do that to Winry," he whispered thickly. "I can't do that to her."

"Winry's _gone_." The reply was gentle, but firm. It wasn't hateful, just factual, which could be a fine line to toe. "You can't let her dictate your life."

He thought about that for a long, silent time. Maybe that was true. Because he hadn't pushed her away; Winry had walked. It was a mutual breakup. One that had been a long time coming, as they had discussed. So maybe it was okay that Edward stopped worrying about her so much and just let himself do what he wanted, appropriately timed or not. But "maybe" was the operative word there. "I don't know," Edward finally said, his shoulders drooping with something akin to exhaustion.

"You've given so much to so many people, Ed," Roy murmured, placing his palm flat against the glass. "It's okay if you do something that's just for you, now."

"I don't know," Ed repeated. But he put his hand against the older man's, bringing a quick smile to Roy's face. A moment later, and Roy had pressed his forehead to the glass, along with his other hand. His torso was straining forward as though maybe that could connect as well.

"Come on, Ed, lean in. I look like an idiot doing this by myself."

So Edward did. He pushed his body forward until he was as flush with the glass as possible. Roy's image distorted from being so close; only the other man's eyes were really clear. And maybe it had gotten colder in the room, or maybe his breath was just hot with emotion, but it fogged the glass between them, condensing into microscopic and intimate droplets. "See?" Roy breathed, making his side of the barrier milky as well. "Doesn't it feel good?"

"Yeah," Ed admitted, closing his eyes. He could almost imagine feeling the whorls of Roy's fingerprints, the tickling of his dark hair, the liveliness of his breath…all of that, rather than the glass. Almost.

The Colonel, as though reading his thoughts, sighed, "I can't wait until I can _really_ hold you."

Half to be an ass, and half seriously, Ed quipped, "I don't know."

But at this point Roy was as positive as they came, and he only laughed. "'I don't know' is a hell of a lot better than 'we can't.'" The chuckles died down, and Roy's next words came out with all the determination of a man on the battlefield. With fire appropriate for a Colonel and State Alchemist. "Somehow, Ed, I'll have you knowing by the time they let you out of here. When they release you from quarantine, I'll have convinced you. Because I can't pass this opportunity up, and I don't think you can either, deep down. You'll be running out of here and straight into my arms."


	14. Chapter 14

"Talk to meeeee, Brother!" The words came out in a half-whine, half-sing-song voice as Alphonse leaned sideways in his chair. Like he was being knocked over by his sheer desire to get some gossip. Gossip that Edward wasn't super keen on dishing out.

"Al, really? I don't want your visits to just be constant rundowns of _Roy's_ visits."

"They won't be," Alphonse protested. "I just want to make sure you two are still on, and then I'll keep my trap shut—unless of course you decide there's something you want to bring up," he added as an afterthought, waggling his eyebrows.

Edward was entirely convinced that brothers were a joke of the universe, and a dearly loved one at that. He exhaled heavily, his breath causing little strands of hair that hung in front of his face to fly upwards for a moment before settling back down. "I guess you could say we're still on. _Roy_ certainly thinks so. I don't know." It was funny that he hadn't wanted to say anything about yesterday, and yet now it was all pouring out like his mouth was a leaky pipe. "I still feel _wrong_ about it, but I get what he said. About not letting the past hold me back from enjoying today, and tomorrow. So I suppose I'm not actively fighting it, I'm just not throwing myself into it." Ed couldn't help but grin as he finished with the real gem, "Roy is though. Hell, that's an understatement. He says he's gonna win me over no matter what it takes."

"It'll work," Al replied, not missing a beat—though he did smile back. "Look at you, you're _thrilled_ he wants to work this hard for you."

"Is it that obvious?" Ed asked, batting his eyelashes.

"Ew, Brother!" Alphonse doubled over with laughter. "Save that for Roy, okay? So why didn't you want to talk about this? It's all good things!"

"'Cause I meant what I said before—I'd rather have two visitors than one and an echo. Plus, I know I'm—I'm _excited_ that he's going to put in so much effort, but I'm still doubtful, and I'd rather not talk too much about it in case the hesitant part of me gains traction."

Al just about jumped out of his skin. "If that's a concern, we're changing the topic. How's—" All of a sudden, Alphonse went ashy pale, and his lower lip began to quiver. "Oh shit, I almost just asked you how you felt about the weather."

"Ah." That _was_ quite awkward, considering how long it had been since Ed gotten to enjoy any weather at all. But his brother didn't need to look so _devastated_ ; he was healing well, he'd be outside again soon. So he tried to make a joke of it all. "It's a little chilly, but no clouds in sight in here, which is nice."

"Don't, Brother. It's serious." Alphonse let his face drop to his hands. "I can't believe I just did that. Your little romance has got me forgetting just what kind of situation you're in. What kind of brother does that make me?"

"A good one," Ed answered briskly. "And a human one. Al, come on. Anyone would forget I'm sick since I don't _seem_ too sick anymore. I mean, yeah, I have chills, and I'm kind of achy, but I can sit up and talk with no problem." Edward oh-so-smoothly neglected to mention that he could also get down on the floor and have deep chats. "Besides, you really think I _want_ to be reminded about the fact that I'm stuck in this stupid thing for a while longer? I'd rather you just ask about the weather."

Shakily, Al smiled. Good—there was no need for him to get worked up over something so trivial. Edward was well aware of how much his little brother cared for him, and a silly question wasn't going to change that. "How long do you have left?"

Edward barely had to hesitate, as he'd been counting down the days with something close to a religious dedication. "A week and three days." Then, with less promptness, the necessary add-on: "If nothing else goes wrong."

"It seems like an age."

"It's not so bad." But he was lying, and they both knew it. Edward needed more socialization than this. He needed to move. And _fuck_ did he need to touch someone. Not intimately, just to feel that undeniable presence of another human being. And still they let the falsity hang in the air, neither one of them daring to challenge it. It was a dark, uncomfortable thing, and Ed coughed to try to dispel it, another thought—just as bad, worse actually, and yet he was so curious—coming to him. "Hey, Al? Have you…have you heard anything back from Xing?"

To say Alphonse knew what he was talking about in an instant would be wrong, because it didn't take nearly that long for Al to catch on. Actually, it seemed like Alphonse had almost been waiting for this to be brought up; he sat up, ramrod straight, and wiped (suddenly sweaty?) palms on the knees of his pants. "Yeah. Yeah, May got back to me."

Ed was afraid to ask. His lips weren't. His voice seemed to come from far away, like it wasn't really him, because he knew the answer, didn't he? If it was good news, Al would have said something before. "And?"

Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, Alphonse answered in a flat, newsprint voice; trying to get all the awful out in one long speech so it could be done and over with. "They found the village. Wasn't easy, either, you'd wandered pretty far. Chen was sick, obviously, but he remembered you when they told him why they were there. He wanted to know if you were okay, and they told him you were being treated and should be fine. I mean, they didn't know it was going that well at that point, but of course they were going to reassure him. May told me the people she sent out (who wore protective clothing at all times, obviously), left to get a doctor. When they came back, the doctor told them that Chen…he was too far gone, Brother. He'd progressed to a point where treatment was pointless, and…" Al gulped, continued gently, "He didn't have long left. May said that they left the doctor there to tend the other people in the village who were falling ill, but her people came back to greater civilization to try to give them all some peace. Before they did, though, Chen asked after you again—he said to send his regards, and that he hoped you got better fast so you could be happy…happy with your fiancée."

Ed had known the news of Chen's death—for he had to be dead as of this instant, probably buried and already beginning to fade from the world's memory—was coming, but that didn't stop his eyes from tearing up. And hearing Chen's last message to him…that had the water breaking over the thin lip of his eyelids and flowing down his cheeks. He wiped at them hurriedly. "He didn't know about me and Winry breaking up, either," he stated. It wasn't a question, just something he needed to hear aloud. "Shit, why would he say something like that? Why would he have anything to say to me at all? We weren't—we didn't—we kissed once, damn it!" he shouted, frustration and sadness mingling to make an ugly explosion of sound.

"I know, Ed," Alponse murmured. "But it obviously had an effect on both of you. I know there was a bit of a language barrier, but I don't think that mattered. Chen really cared about you, and I know he meant something to you as well."

"Shut up, Al," Edward choked. Fuck, he was crying all out, now. Why had he brought that up? Why? What was the point? "What did he do, huh? Shit, he was a great enough guy to send a kind message to some foreigner on his damn death bed! How come he had to die?"

"Brother, don't." This time Al's voice was almost sharp. "Don't go down that road. We did that enough with Mom. With Nina. With who knows how many other people. We learned long ago that the world isn't fair, and I know you haven't forgotten that."

"I know," Ed croaked.

"Here, I want you to try something. It's going to sound stupid, and you're going to do it anyway, okay? May taught me this. It's a way of dealing with grief that her family's been using for generations. It…should give you some peace, no religious belief necessary."

That sounded a-okay to Edward. "Fine."

"Close your eyes."

Ed did as he was told, the salt in his tears stinging lightly. He could still, thanks to the hospital lights, see the inside of his eyelid as a red-orange film. That phenomenon had always unnerved him, somehow, and he shivered.

"Take a deep breath, meditation style. Just breathe. Okay, now I want you to picture Chen. Preferably in a happy situation."

Obediently, Edward called the memory up; it was easy. The warm color of his lids darkened to almost pure black, and then stars began to pop up. Turning his head in his mind, Ed found dark, happy eyes staring back at him. Chen, while they were lying in that field looking at the sky. Chen, who was moments away from kissing him even though he knew...

Ed didn't want this bit of memory to include him arguing. He wanted this to just _be_. In his head, Chen leaned forward, and Edward swore he could again feel those warm lips against his own. Soft as any girl's could be. And he didn't let himself pull back, didn't let it stop—kept it going even. So what if he was fibbing a little? This was better than what had really happened. And when _Chen_ moved away, it was only to flash a wide smile at Ed, one that made his heart ache with loss.

"Now," Al whispered, as though he too could see what Edward was imaging and knew this was the perfect time. "I want you to let him go. Just imagine him disappearing, but peacefully. No suffering. With a smile and a 'goodbye.'"

Swallowing hard, Ed let his brother's suggestions take shape. Without breaking his grin, Chen began to _dissolve_. There was no other word for it, but it wasn't in a scary way. Rather, his body, starting from the feet, broke up into little flecks of light that whipped around in a sudden wind—flecks that Ed recognixed, with a jolt, as tiny flowers. This continued into Chen's arms and stomach, then at his chest…up his neck, and finally his head was lost in a bright swirl of petals. These washed over Edward, and he heard the faintest, "Zaijian," before they billowed upwards, flying so high as to blend in with the stars.

Ed opened his eyes, still sniffling and yet feeling, on the whole, much more tranquil. He brought a hand to his face and wiped off the last remnants of tears under Al's watery, smiling watch. "How do you feel?"

"Better," Edward admitted shyly. "Thanks. That's…really something. I mean…wow."

"Hey, I'm just glad it helped. I was afraid you being such a stubborn ass would have gotten in the way." This remark was only half-teasing, meant to ever so carefully drag them both out of crying range on this topic.

And Ed was more than happy to let that happen. "I'm not half as stubborn as you. You'll thank May for me, right?"

"Of course." Here Alphonse hesitated, his mouth open but apparently having trouble finding the right words. "Brother…you don't think knowing what happened to Chen will mess up you and Roy, do you? I don't want you to feel like you owe him as well, like you need to be faithful to him. Even though that's a little convoluted, it sounds like you."

Edward was actually able to laugh, just a little. "No way. If anything, it makes me… _want_ Roy to win me over. Makes me want to be with him. Because it's kind of like…we're so fragile. Chen was so _alive_ when I saw him, and now he's gone. It takes just a second to lose your grip on life, and we can't always see that coming. So it makes sense to quit feeling so obligated to everyone and be happy with him, now that I have the chance. Besides," Ed quipped, a lopsided grin gracing his features. "I'm pretty sure Chen would prefer me to be boinking a hot guy as opposed to be pining after an ex."

Groaning, Al threw his head back and placed a hand over his eyes in utter exasperation. "I've almost changed my mind, now. I mean, I want you to enjoy life, and if Roy helps…but really? I don't need to think about you two _boinking_. _You_ don't need to be thinking about it, you're sick!"

"Aw, hush." Ed winked. "There's never a wrong time to imagine Roy naked."

Head snapping forward again, Al's eyes burned. Along with his cheeks. "You'd better hope I don't tell him you said that the next time I see him," he threatened.

Enormously less cocky than he had been seconds ago, Edward hurried to find something else to talk about. He wasn't too keen on having Alphonse going through with that one.


	15. Chapter 15

Edward had been intending to give Roy a bit of a hard time, even though he'd decided yesterday he didn't have too much fight in him when it came to this relationship thing. Not anymore. But what was the fun in letting Roy know that?

Or so he'd thought before. But then Ed had woken early— _way_ too early, but he couldn't sleep, because he was busy thinking about how Roy would be trying to win him over today. And how he'd respond. His nurses had brought in breakfast at 8 am as usual, one hour before visitation commenced, and he'd barely been able to eat because the anticipation was gnawing at _him_. It was stupid; he'd seen Roy plenty of times, flirted with him, and never had this problem. Then again, today would be different. The Colonel had made his intentions clear, and then yesterday Edward had more or less convinced himself to go along with that. It was…sort of like a really twisted first date.

Thinking about all that had plucked the rest of Ed's doubts right out of his head, and though he wasn't going to be _that_ forward with Roy, he had decided to go ahead and settle himself on the floor so there was minimal distance between them when the older man finally dragged his ass in there. It seemed like he was late, although without a clock Edward had no way of knowing for sure.

Shivering slightly, he clutched the blankets he'd wrapped around himself a little closer. He guessed this was just how the disease was progressing (hopefully in its final stages by now, Ed had had it up to _here_ with this stupid thing), but now he was cold. Like, really cold. Luckily, the necessity of his bundling had made the floor a little more comfortable to sit on.

"Ed?"

Perking up immediately (and embarrassingly—he'd have to at least _try_ to control his reactions), Edward lifted his head to peer over the edge of his bed. Oops. Roy was standing there, looking around, the expression on his face growing more alarmed every moment. Ed had forgotten that from the entrance to this room, he wouldn't be visible on the floor. Especially not behind his monitors.

"Down here!"

Moments later, a very relieved Colonel turned the corner, plopping down with less ceremony than usual. "Trying to give me a heart attack, Ed? I thought they'd moved you, that something serious happened…"

"Actually," Edward replied, somewhat miffed, "I was _trying_ to be…I dunno. Nice? Sweet? Whatever. I wanted to see you."

Mood flipping faster than Hawkeye could reload a gun (and she held the current record), a crooked smile quirked up one side of Roy's mouth. Ed thought, with that beautiful, irritated light of _victory_ in his eyes, it might be the most attractive thing he'd ever seen. "Already got you eager for me? And I wasn't even _here_ yesterday, this'll be easier than I thought."

"Don't be an asshole," Edward muttered, cheeks flaring up. He fiddled with the corner of his blanket. "I'm not _easy_ , it's just less difficult to like you when you aren't here. Now, I see why I was so reluctant before."

"Aw, c'mon Ed, you know I didn't mean it that way." That smile still stuck on Roy's face, his confidence unshaken by Edward's pouting. "I missed you too." As a peace offering, he lifted a hand to the glass. It was hard for Ed to resist, and so with a little grumbling, he too raised a palm, his covered by the blanket. Which, of course, raised some eyebrows.

"What's up with that?" Roy asked, concern coloring his words. "You're an Ed burrito. Is it colder in there or something?"

"No…" Ed hesitated to answer that one, knowing if he was honest it would bring on a round of panic from the older man. "I'm just a little chilly, is all."

As predicted, alarm. "That could be serious! Have you told the doctor? Maybe you should get back up in bed…"

"I don't _want_ to be in bed," Edward huffed. "I want to be here, okay? And everyone gets cold sometimes. If anything, it means this thing is breaking, or whatever. I'm not a doctor, but I don't need to get one, I just want to sit and talk to you and laugh and—"

"Okay, okay!" Interrupting, Roy held up his hands in surrender. "Fine. But the next time someone's in here, you need to talk to them. Just to make sure. Deal?"

"I guess." Shuffling forward, Ed twisted so that his side was facing Roy, and leaned his whole bundled body against the glass. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Colonel mirroring his movements, so that for all intents and purposes—minus one teeny tiny _fucking_ glass wall—they were resting against each other.

"Yeah," Roy sighed. "Definitely better without any orderlies around."

Silence reigned for a few moments, and Edward wasn't about to break it. Not because it was nice—that is, it was _okay_ , but isolation was getting to him and Ed greatly preferred speaking to not. No, he was waiting it out because today was Roy's day and he was dying to know whether the man had come in here with a plan, rather than just a can-do attitude.

"I was going to bring in a radio," the Colonel murmured after a moment. "I thought you might appreciate some music in here, but as it so happens my portable broke. I didn't know until I tried it this morning—I haven't used it in ages—and I thought being on time to get here was more important than stopping to have that repaired."

"Wait…you had a broken radio…and you didn't know? Just how long has it been since you listened to music?"

"I hear it in the car," Roy replied, somewhat defensively. "I just never think about it when I'm at home. Usually I'm so busy, music isn't something I pay attention to."

"That's so…sad," Ed murmured. "Music's so important. Even during all the craziness, me and Al would listen. It's calming."

"So I was right." There was the hint of a smile in Roy's voice. Ed had allowed his eyelids to droop shut, and didn't bother to open them again to check. "You do like music."

"Everyone likes music," Edward argued. While the idea of a radio was nice, it wasn't like it was original. "You're just weird."

A heartbeat later, and Roy answered him in the softest, most _vulnerable_ tone Ed had ever heard the older man use. "I could sing, if you wanted me to."

Try as he might to fight it, Ed couldn't prevent a smile from creeping onto his face. He'd be damned if that wasn't the _sweetest_ fucking offer ever. And if Roy was willing to sing, that meant he had some degree of talent. Or at least he thought he did. He _had_ to know. "That'd be nice."

The Colonel seemed to think for a moment—choosing a song, Edward guessed. Then he started, and he would swear to his grave that all the beeping and whirring machinery in the room stopped for a moment. " _Unforgettable, that's what you are. Unforgettable, tho' near or far…"_

It was a higher pitch than Ed would have bet on, but it was _great_. Great in the sense that it wasn't perfect. Roy wouldn't be making it onto the radio himself, but he wasn't bad at all. Most importantly, it was heartfelt (though Edward questioned the choice, Nat King Cole, jeez), and came up from deep in Roy's chest—metaphorically and literally. There was so much _substance_ in the few lines, it had Ed blushing.

" _Like a song of love that clings to me, how the thought of you does things to me."_

Oh, he bet. Edward had to force himself not to laugh, knowing Roy would interpret it wrong. He didn't want to offend the man—it was just…precious. And though it wasn't his kind of music (and it was a few years old), it was so touching Ed thought his heart might actually burst. He waited patiently as the Colonel finished, opening his eyes to watch Roy quite self-consciously trying to avoid meeting Edward's gaze.

" _That's why, darling, it's incredible, that someone so unforgettable, thinks that I am, unforgettable too…_ Hopefully," Roy added quietly.

"Roy…"

"Too much, I know." Now, the man was hurrying to make light of his song. After all, if he demeaned it, nothing Ed said would sound as harsh. But that wasn't right.

"No." This was firm. Edward would not have Roy belittling his song. For a second he wondered why it was so important to him, so significant, and then his brain caught up to his emotions. "It was perfect."

Reassured, Roy was quick to swing back to his comfortable cockiness. "Well, yeah, I mean, I'm pretty amazing."

"No," Ed repeated, still frustrated. "Don't do that," he continued, softer. "Don't go back to Mr. Smooth. It was perfect because you let me see something I get the feeling you don't let other people see."

"Well…yeah."

"How many people have you done that for?" Ed asked.

"Sung? No one. I just do that when I'm alone, sometimes. Been a little more…open with? Three total, not including you." Edward could hear the struggle it took to admit this, for Roy—normally so suave—to confess something personal. He was surprised by how deeply touched he was that Roy would be comfortable enough with him to say that. "Madame Christmas, Hughes, and Hawkeye."

"I understand Madame Christmas, but Hughes and Hawkeye?"

"Hawkeye's father trained me, you know that," Roy explained. "I saw parts of her no one else ever did, and it was only fair to repay the favor. If there's a platonic—familial, even—equivalent to soul mates, she's mine. Hughes was a great friend as well. We trained together. He got me through Ishval."

"Friend?" Ed hated to ask, but…he was a curious guy.

"I had a bit of a crush on him," Roy answered, surprising Ed with a light laugh. "He was strictly into vagina, though, so I had to settle for a best friend. And that turned out to be exactly what I needed from him."

Edward bit his lip, before whispering, "Does that mean I'm special?"

Another laugh, this time much louder and heartier. Ed could almost feel the vibrations passing through the glass. "Yes, Ed. You're very special to me."

Suddenly, the blankets around him were _too_ warm. Edward felt like a space heater, warmth spreading outwards from his chest to his extremities. He pried his arms free before leaning back against the glass contentedly. "Good. I like this side of you."

"I'd hope you like _every_ side of me."

Now it was his turn to laugh. "I do," Ed reassured. "This one's just my favorite."

"Guess I'll have to get used to bringing it out more often," Roy hedged, only somewhat hesitant. "It'll take some practice, but I guess I can do it for you."

A giggle—where in the _hell_ had that sound come from?—escaped Edward, and he was ashamed to say he _snuggled_ against the glass. It was unbelievably disappointing to only feel cold, rather than fabric and Roy's solid muscle up against him. "Shit, I can't wait until I get out of here."

"Really? What for?" As if he didn't know the damn answer, the self righteous bastard.

"So I can hug you, you idiot," Ed mumbled.

Surprisingly, Roy wasn't loud with boasting when he heard that. He let out a long, happy breath, chuckling, "Only took a day to convince you, huh?"

"Two days!" Edward corrected childishly. "Just because you weren't here yesterday doesn't mean it doesn't count as a day passed."

"Oh, I was here in spirit," Roy countered. Ed didn't like that tone of his—something instinctual inside him knew what came next could be no good. And it was right. "I hear you and Al had _quite_ the conversation about me…"

Oh _no_. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Roy waited a second before continuing, "You sure _all_ you'll be wanting is a _hug_?"

Alphonse, the little prick! Edward groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "I'll _kill_ him, I swear…"

"No need for violence, now," Roy chastised. "At least he's honest. And here _you_ are thinking about me _naked_ without even _telling_ me—although, I guess I'm guilty of the same, so we're pretty much even…"

Imagining Roy imagining him naked almost made everything worse. Heat coiled in Ed's abdomen—he must not be _that_ sick. His heart monitor, which had been surprisingly calm all this time, began to beep a little louder. A little faster.

"Oops," the older man said. "I'll hold that thought, then." A wide, fleeting grin, and then, "Really, you don't have to be so embarrassed though."

"It's not that—well, not mostly." Ed ran fingers through his hair, wondering how to word this right. "I just—that's the stuff I bring up to irritate Al. I don't want you thinking I'm going to walk out of here and pounce on you. I'd honestly rather just have a hug and a conversation where I'm allowed to be close to you without this stupid thing in the way. I don't…" Fuck it, he couldn't articulate himself. Luckily, Roy seemed to pick it up from there.

"I know, Ed. You don't want to fuck, you want a relationship. So do I, don't worry. Doesn't mean I don't think you're gorgeous, and I'm fine with admitting that."

The corner of Edward's mouth twitched. He pressed his head further against the glass, exhaling heavily. "Roy? I'm scared."

"Of what?"

"Of the fact that it's becoming really easy to fall for you." The words came out barely more than a breath, but Ed knew Roy heard them. It was evident in the surprised, short inhale that came from the other side of the glass.

"Why does that scare you?" Roy asked. "Personally, I'm thrilled."

Edward rolled his eyes. "I'm not _used_ to it. With Winry, it was…like a candle. It caught and grew, and burnt for a while. But that flame's supply was being used up and eventually it was just snuffed out, until it was nothing but lingering smoke. _This_ is more like a forest fire. A little spark started a whole lot of feeling, and all its doing is growing."

"I would hope our relationship isn't quite as damaging as a forest fire," the older man commented. Edward actually snorted with annoyance.

"That's not what I mean! So it's a flawed metaphor. My point it, I don't do well with change. Hell, I've worn my hair like this since I was what, twelve? And that's so small. I'm not used to feeling this strongly, and it's a little scary!"

"I didn't mean to joke," the Colonel replied soothingly. "I just meant, I hope this will be healthy. For you and for me. As for it being scary, yeah, I can relate to that. But it's not…bad scary, right? It's more like not knowing what will be around the next corner, almost anticipation, instead of monster-in-the-closet."

Ed thought that over for a minute. "Yeah, I guess that's a good way to put it."

"So don't worry about it. Just be…excited to feel this way and know I reciprocate." Roy seemed so sure of himself and his logic. And it did make sense. Shit, it even calmed him down—or maybe that was more just the sound of the man's voice lulling him into security.

A chill swept him up suddenly, and Edward shivered. He pulled the blanket back over his shoulders—with Roy glancing at him in that worried way all the while—and once more cuddled up to the glass. If he weren't in quarantine…if this were just some run of the mill disease…he could be cuddling Roy right then. Ed was positive, though he had no real scientific proof, that Roy would be _much_ warmer than the blanket he was currently curled up in. His throat felt very thick, then, and not because of him being sick. It was him missing that contact, missing something he'd never actually had. Missing an idea. Anticipation, just like Roy had said. "Excited. I don't know if that covers it," he whispered.


	16. Chapter 16

Edward was…quite cold. He'd even told the nurses, like he hadn't gotten around to doing the day before (Roy was much more fun to pay attention to than a little chill). However, seeing as that chill had devolved into Ed curled up on the bed, shuddering despite being wrapped in blankets, he finally had deemed it fit to alert someone. So they'd cranked the heat up a little, and given him extra covers. And that helped, a little.

Not enough to satisfy the doctor, though.

"I suspect you have either pneumonia or sepsis…" he said, pacing around the cube to get a look at Ed. Obviously, if he could diagnose from outside the glass, that was preferred. "Both of those would explain the shivering, and either one could be a result of your battle with Red Viper. You said the only problem was being cold?"

"Yes," Ed repeated impatiently. If he had any other issues, he'd have told the guy, he wasn't stupid.

"And your heart rate has been normal," the man continued to muse. "Are you _sure_ there's nothing else? Even something small. A cough, or two? Maybe a little chest pain? Trouble breathing?"

"I've been breathing fine," Edward replied, thinking about the other two options he'd been presented. His chest felt a little heavy, but not painful… "I coughed a few times, earlier," he hedged. "That's normal, though. Everyone coughs."

The doctor stopped his circling, settling in at the front of Ed's cube. "Maybe so, but combine the coughing and the chill and you've got pneumonia forming. It's more likely than sepsis, anyway. I'd like to add another antibiotic to your IV to start treating for pneumonia, just to be safe while we test some blood."

"Blood tests?" Edward echoed blearily. "Doc, haven't you put enough needles in me? If you think its pneumonia, put me on the meds. Its fine, no need for more poking."

"Mr. Elric," the doctor responded contemptuously, "I recall that you were a little, shall we say, _loose_ with the rules during your military stint. But we can't do that here. I can put you on the medication before the tests _only_ because you're recovering from something so serious, and if this complication gets out of hand it could kill you. But I keep my ducks in a row, so we will have to do the blood tests."

Edward slouched, pouting. A rather large part of him wanted to shout out that he didn't give a damn about the man's ducks and that he was sick and tired of this hospital and its monitors and tests. Luckily, the smaller, rational part of him realized it would be better to hold his tongue and deal with a few tests so he could get out of this place in one piece. He exhaled heavily, deflating like a balloon. "Fine."

"Good." The doctor looked relieved; probably, he'd been ready from more of a fight. Reasonable, considering who he was treating. "I'll send a nurse in now."

"Hey, after that, could you send my brother in?" Ed asked. He was sure it was past nine now, and Al was probably a nervous wreck in the waiting room.

However, the doctor only looked puzzled. "I could call someone for you, Mr. Elric, but no one is waiting to come in."

Suddenly, Edward _definitely_ had chest pain. It felt like he'd gotten hooked on an anchor, and it was dragging him down to the lowest depths. If Alphonse wasn't there—and worse yet, hadn't called and had anyone let him _know_ —something was wrong. There was no way his worrisome, devoted, punctual little brother would just not show up. Not that the doctor would understand that. As if from a great distance, Ed heard himself saying, "Oh. Okay."

It was not okay.

* * *

After about fifteen minutes of knocking, Alphonse had determined pretty solidly that Winry wasn't in her hotel room. There was always the possibility that she _was_ inside, and just didn't want to deal with him, but Al doubted that. Winry wasn't really a patient person—after such a long time, she'd have come to the door just to shut him up.

Which meant that she wasn't there. He _really_ didn't have time for this.

Turning so that his back was to the door, Alphonse slid to a sitting position on the floor with a heavy sigh. Checking his wristwatch, he saw that it now read 8:35. Unless Winry high-tailed it back here and didn't put up too much of a fight, he likely wasn't going to make it to the hospital right when visitation started. Which meant his paranoid older brother was going to freak out.

"Damn it, Winry," he cursed under his breath. Where in the world would she even have gone? Of course, she'd been in the hotel for weeks (though she hadn't said as much, Al knew she would stay until Edward was deemed healthy), so maybe she had tired of their breakfast options and had gone out. That was perfectly logical, but even so, it was hard to forgive her not being there when he needed her.

The minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness, so much so that Al caught himself dozing off a few times. 8:45 came around, then 8:50. Finally, just past nine, he heard footsteps coming around the corner.

Alphonse scrambled to his feet, and was dusting himself off when a slightly disheveled Winry stepped into the hallway, stopping abruptly when she caught sight of him. Eyes widening, she exhaled a frustrated, "What are you _doing_ here?"

For his part, Al was rather taken aback. Winry was wearing a dress, not _slinky_ , exactly, but not her usual garb. And more makeup than normal, he thought, though it was a little smeared. And her hair wasn't as pristine as she usually kept it. Not to mention the fact that she was coming _to_ her temporary home at this time in the morning. Slowly, he replied, "Obviously, I needed to talk to you."

Blowing out another heavy puff of air, Winry jerked back into motion like a delayed film. Fumbling for her room key, she pushed past Alphonse to open her door. "Come on in, then, and make it fast."

Wordlessly, Alphonse followed her into the hotel room. It was small, really only a bedroom with a tiny bathroom added on the side, not unlike the many, _many_ motel rooms he and Ed had stayed in during their time working for the military. It didn't have many personal effects, aside from a small pile of automail bolts and bits on the nightstand, a single book lying on the floor…and a belt peaking out from under the bed?

Winry walked immediately to the bathroom, washing her face off in the sink as Al carefully made his way further into the room. Peering out of the corner of his eye, he tried to get a closer look at the belt. It was strange for it to be there at all; Winry didn't _wear_ belts, she hated the damn things. And this one was weirdly thick, worn and with a large buckle. Not that belts were really gendered things, but something about it felt…masculine.

Or maybe it was the faint, stale scent of cologne clinging to the air in the room that was giving him that vibe.

Turning back to look at Winry, Alphonse started, "Look, you're gonna try to cut me off, but try to hear me out, okay?" Upon receiving a grunt of agreement, he continued bluntly, "I need you to come see Brother again. He's fine," he added hurriedly, as Winry looked up with a frightened glance, "but he's…a little hung up, emotionally."

Finally satisfied that her face was wiped clean of makeup, Winry grabbed a towel and dabbed at her skin. Once she finished this little ritual, she faced Alphonse square on, hand on her hip. "What in the world are you talking about?"

Beginning to get frustrated with her impatience, Al matched her tone. "Brother's moving on, Winry, and he's found someone I think he really likes, but he feels guilty about it. Because of you. I want you to come tell him it's okay."

"Huh!" Winry huffed, shaking her head. "Let me get this straight: you want me to come to the _hospital_ , where my _ex-fiance_ has found someone else, to give him my _blessing_!?"

His lower eyelid twitched, once, a tic he had developed since regaining his body that crept up whenever his blood pressure got too high. But still, Al kept himself cool and controlled. "You don't really have any right to be upset, considering he's not the only one who's moved on."

It was a little more than a guess, but not quite fact. Not until Winry's gaping, culpable expression proved him right. "How did you know?" she spluttered, face turning pink.

Somewhat sarcastically, Alphonse held out a hand and started listing off the clues on his fingers. "You come back to your own hotel room in the morning, you're all dressed up and a little messy, you smell like cologne—this whole room does, actually, and I'm pretty sure there's a guy's belt under the bed there—"

"Okay!" Winry cut him off, hands flying up to ground at her temples. "You got me, alright, but it's not _serious_ …I'm just…blowing off some steam, I guess."

"Well," Al countered automatically, "if you're allowed to 'blow off steam,' shouldn't Brother be allowed to pursue something that's actually serious?"

Winry opened her mouth to argue, then shut it again. Alphonse shifted his weight from his heels to his toes and back again, rocking, waiting for her to say something. He'd convince her no matter what; he was sure of that, now that he'd discovered she'd been enjoying the company of a man. Actual love had more merits in this situation than sleeping around.

"Fine," she said after a moment more of consideration. "I don't _like_ it, but I get where you're coming from. And I guess...part of me wants him to feel guilty, Al, but another part of me realizes that's not fair at all. It was a mutual break, and if he needs me to tell him it's okay, I shouldn't withhold that just to keep him unhappy." Winry looked away from him, eyes clouding over. "Give me a minute to get presentable, okay?"

"Alright," Alphonse agreed, stepping back out into the hallway. He checked his watch again: 9:18. Later than he would have liked, but he'd also had to argue less than he expected, so he'd take it.

* * *

Normally, Ed's knee-jerk reaction to seeing Al after being so stupidly _worried_ about him would be to shout out, first in relief and then (obviously) in irritation at being left to be all anxious. And that's what he started to do, when he saw his brother walk in. However, he didn't have time to get any further than opening his mouth before his knee-jerk reaction curled up and whined like a scolded puppy. Winry was behind Al. _Winry was behind Al_.

A gross coil of heat wound up in his abdomen, tightening and tightening around his organs until Ed felt like he was going to explode. All he wanted was for that spiral of stress to _stop fucking squeezing him_ , but it _wouldn't_ and holy fuck why was Winry here?

He gaped openly, unable to say anything as the duo approached his cube. Alphonse spoke first, while Winry stood back a little, the frown on her face indicating she was feeling at least some of the tension Ed was. "Brother, I know you're freaking out, but just listen. I know you're all worked up about moving on, and I thought hearing Winry tell you it was okay would help. I just want you to be happy, so…I brought her here."

Voice cracking, unable to take his eyes off his ex-fiancée, Ed croaked, "Ya know, I pretty much decided yesterday I was okay with getting past it…"

Alphonse, however, was not put off by this, waving his hand as though Edward's reply were an annoying fly. "You say that now, but without being given permission, for lack of a better term, you'll be all upset again in no time. It's just how you are, Brother, and I say that with all the affection in the world. So, Winry…?"

At the sound of her name, Winry gave a little start, and then stepped forward—just two steps, maintaining some degree of distance between herself and the glass. "Ed, we broke up. And I appreciate that you want to honor the relationship, or whatever, but there's no sense in restraining yourself for a memory." She said this all very quickly, trying to get it out of the way and over with, but then paused before admitting, "I haven't. I mean, it's nothing serious, but I've been seeing this one guy…so there's no reason you shouldn't find other people as well. Who gives a damn about timing, so long as you're happy…go for it."

Ed blinked. He hadn't expected that at all. So, Winry had found someone else to occupy her time with, huh? That was surprising, but…Al was right, it was comforting. He'd pretty much stashed his doubts in the back of his mind, but hearing Winry say that banished them altogether. If she could do it, he _definitely_ could. Slowly, the curling in his stomach loosened. "Wow," he breathed finally. "Okay, then. I mean…I wasn't quite ready, but…thanks. That's good to know."

His erstwhile fiancée nodded, tight lipped. Edward had known her long enough to recognize the expression; she was thinking of whether she should say something or not. Most always, she opted to speak whatever was on her mind, and Ed could only hope that in this instance it wasn't anything too sharp. And it wasn't, it was soft and curious. "So," she started, her gaze now firmly locked on the ground, weight shifting from foot to foot, "you found someone else while you were in here…that limits it to a pretty select group of people."

Oh no. Edward could see where this was going. His eyes flickered, accusing, to Al and then back to Winry. "Yeah…"

She took a deep breath. "Who is it?"

Huffing, Ed let his head fall back, looking at the ceiling for a moment to compose himself. "I don't want to tell you," he replied after a moment. "Look, it's nothing personal, but I don't think you'll like the answer. Considering we are both, apparently, at pretty healthy points here, I don't know that it's a good idea for you to know."

"Ed," she pleaded, "I just have to know. At least—at least tell me if it's a woman."

"Would that make you feel better?" he countered.

"I…don't know," Winry answered softly. When she looked up at him, her eyes were misty. "I don't think so. If it's a woman, that means we pretty much fell apart. If it's not…I'll feel less like it was because of me, personally, even if it was."

The room fell silent, while Edward considered what to say. On the one hand, he was sure telling her it was _definitely_ a man—a lovely, well dressed, sarcastic man—would lead to her getting more information. On the other hand, she'd just hand-delivered her blessing to him, and giving her this back would be a decent form of repayment.

"Brother," Alphonse whispered, interjecting as gently as possible. "I think you should tell her."

Sighing in defeat, Ed gave in. "I might as well just tell you, seeing as you'll figure it out somehow anyway—it's Roy, Winry."

" _What_!?" she spluttered, shaking her head vehemently. "Really? The _Colonel_? I…" Winry stopped again, running a hand through her hair in disbelief. "I…don't know what to say."

"I told you that you wouldn't like it," Ed reprimanded, cheeks glowing.

"You're right," she replied, "I don't. It's…crazy, to think that _while I was here_ , the next person you were going to fall for was too. But…I guess I'm not supposed to like it, am I? The point is that _you_ do." Winry took another deep breath, exhaling steadily and doing a remarkable job, really, of maintaining her cool. "That's what I came here for, is to tell you you're allowed to be happy, okay? So go for it, regardless of what I might think. I shouldn't be a factor in y'all's relationship."

Nodding slowly, Ed smiled. He was warm, again, but this time it was a comfortable warmth. Gratitude. "Thanks, Winry."

"Yeah…" Letting out a quick, heavy exhale, Winry said, "I should get going, okay? I just came to say that."

"I understand." And he did; while Edward _was_ glad they'd had this brief discussion, it was…awkward, in the room. They weren't quite distant enough from their failed relationship to be at ease just…talking. "But thank you. Really."

She nodded, once, and then spun around, striding for the exit. But then Winry stopped, turning once more. "Ed? I'm glad you're doing better. I hope you can get out of there soon."

Smiling in acknowledgement, Edward couldn't help but laugh a little. It was funny, but Winry seemed almost more affectionate towards him than she had during the last few months they were together. It seemed as though they really were better off separated, and Ed hoped that in time…after their wounds had healed a little more…they could be better as friends.


End file.
